Autobiography · Relationships


The only time I ever hear my roommate is when she’s laughing. That loud, full-bodied laugh that makes my lips turn of their sides no matter how I’m feeling that day. When I’m outside smoking a cigarette the woman across the street comes over to talk to me. I lock myself out of my house and go sit on the porch with my upstairs neighbor and talk until Sevnaz comes back to let me in. I never miss living downtown. Never miss people with blinders on who don’t notice they share the world with people around them. That we all have rich, vibrant lives full of heartbreak and lost loves and beauty and resilience. I do not miss being surrounded by people who are always seeming to forget or ignore that.

Finally in a neighborhood that feels like home. Finally home.

Autobiography · Relationships


The world fell down around us.
Crying on couches. Heads in hands.

But when we drove home
we rolled down the windows,
sang until our throats ached.

And I knew I at least am still safe
with them.

Photo courtesy of Aaron Burden.

Autobiography · Relationships

Love Trumps Hate

I went to bed at eleven o’clock last night with Donald Trump on the verge of taking over the presidency. Woke up at two-thirty this morning to find out it had happened. Physically ill doesn’t even begin to describe it. My whole body aches. How could something like this happen? How could my country be so full of hatred and fear it would elect a man based on those beliefs?

It’s three in the morning and I’m crying at my computer. Terrified for our future. Ashamed that I live in a place where half the country would rather have an actual racist take the office of president than a well-qualified and smart (to put it lightly) woman. I can’t gather my thoughts. This just doesn’t make sense.

What I can tell you is that we will not run away. We do not get to simply leave the country. We do not get to say, “Well, I voted for her, so…”, or “I wanted Bernie!”, or whatever talk about how the whole system is fucked. No. Now begins the work of rebuilding. Of reclaiming. Of finding out how we have created a system so fueled by hatred and fear that this was even of option and working hard to fix it.

So dissent. Protest. Put your money into foundations working hard to protect our rights, our freedoms. Bring your boots to the streets. Talk to your neighbors. Fight. We do not get to run away now. Now we have to fix this. Because no matter how terrifying and flawed our country is–especially right now–it is ours. And we need to start acting like it.

Photo courtesy of Aaron Burden.