caramel coated pages

flutter in the

candy apple air.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

Autumn. Autumn. Autumn.



there’s a solid mass of food sitting in the pit of my stomach

My ears are ringing like windchimes.

i don’t seem to know my limits

cuz i’ve pushed these lines of “healthy” so far out of bounds a few too many times

i do it so often now that i tend to not realize when i’m in it.

the bile leaves my throat raw and numb,

colors the water pale brown,

leaves my mouth sore and glum.

my body’s tired from retching over the cold, porcelain toilet seat.

oftentimes i forget what it’s like not feeling as though

I’m some rotting piece of meat.

I don’t remember what it’s like to not put on this show;

What’s it like to not be playing pretend?

How can I flip this switch and to start to make some amends?

Past Tense Present Days

He used to tell me that he loved me.

Now i sit here wondering if he ever found me as beautiful as he does his photography.

If the subjects he chooses now would have compared to the way his heart beat when he was with me.

Now i wonder if I’ll ever stop wondering.

Or if my poems can ever fully be rid of his image.


you feel your body start digesting itself.

hands shaking,

shallow breathing,

focus leaving.

how much longer can you go like this?

now last year’s jeans are fitting.

now your stomach grows flatter not fatter.

but when will the shedding weight be enough

to warrant some reward through steady eating?

brittle nails,

breaking hair,

weakening resolve.

this is your bed now.

sleep in it.

but don’t dare eat in it.

this is your grave now.

lie in it.

but don’t dare eat in it.


Love is…

Love is falling off your bike and scraping your knees at seven years old

Tears streaming down your face and stinging through your legs but all you want to do is get back on and go flying down that hill again.

Love is paitent. It waits. It fades. It ebbs and flows. 

Love is the ocean. It gets pulled in and pulled back out day by day. Some days are stronger than others. Some days are weaker.

Love is warm sunshine beaming across soft skin and love is bitter wind whipping your hair around in your face and leaving goosebumps on your skin.

Love is gentle hellos and quiet goodbyes. 

Love is knowing when they aren’t yours, and not making them be.