Thank You for Letting Me Dream of You.
Thank you for letting me hold you. Thank you for letting me nestle my tired head into your warm chest. Thank you for letting me say, “I’m sorry.” I know we no longer speak...
Thank you for letting me hold you. Thank you for letting me nestle my tired head into your warm chest. Thank you for letting me say, “I’m sorry.” I know we no longer speak...
When I was a new writer, I enjoyed stringing together beautiful words. To this day, I’ll choose a word as much as, if not more, for its sound within the sentence as for its...
I have hearts scattered all over the world. One of my dearest hearts is in Sweden, another in Philadelphia, one in Connecticut and my own mirror-image half (my identical twin sister) in a different...
Her fragile heart leaked into her muscle fibers. She felt the bones in her jaw store her collected, unsaid words. The raw space in the hollow of her clavicles housed disappointment she didn’t want...
I’m a huge Harry Potter junkie. Generally speaking, I adore writers who become successful with little or no formal training (cough, cough—read my bio). That said, what I’m not a huge fan of is how our...