Idiopathic, empathetic— Hyperventilating, still poetic. Scratching, Stripping, Clawing walls; Muted texts, unanswered calls. Echoes in a crowded room “I am trying,” never soon.

What a conversation  Little trading cards of Who we are  Passed like middle school notes, Small laughter across a table. A flicker, A passing recognition, I think I knew you once Or maybe I was just waiting to.

Treading, Heading on a course south of north gnawing on the marrow of a harrowing rebirth

The Women Who Raised Me 1. My grandmother is a half of a woman I love both halves, the one she is allowed and the one I will never know Think my grandparents love each other, or must have once...

No matter where you are in your writing journey, resources, and free ones at that, are essential. They help you connect with other writers, join peer review groups, find free workshops near you, or even learn the ins and outs of submitting and publishing your work. Let’s explore some great resources both locally in the Triangle and beyond.

Writers know how important it is to use language to show the reader what a character is feeling and thinking in a story. Beyond dialogue and outright exposition, writers have other literary tools to achieve this goal. Let’s zoom in on one of those tools: stream of consciousness.

The city forgets, but the bricks remember, lungs filled with the dust of another man’s wealth. Your laughter dissolved into smoke each September.

I wrote this like Psalms etched in the sand, A message from the soul, so I hope you’ll understand. I used to marvel at your magic like Strange with the hands, Now your spells feel hollow, generic, and bland.