My first song is now on SoundCloud. This song capture falling in love, but having anxiety and doubt overcome you as you fall....

“This was fun,” I say as she parks the car. She unlocks the door and looks up at me. She looks so cute and cuddly in her white cardigan and halo of blonde hair. Like a little angel.

“Yeah, I always like spending time with you,” she says, and the tiniest bit of pink appears on her cheeks.

“Next week? Same time?” I ask. We always drive to the diner and stay until 11pm. Then we say good night with her parked by the curb and my heart parked in my throat. One time she said she might be into girls.

“Sounds good,” she says, her voice sweet and spritely. She has a cherub voice.

I open the car door and stick one leg out.

“Wait.”

Her hand is on my arm. I pull my leg back in like I’m climbing back onto a ship. I think of the world outside the car as a roaring ocean. Our little ship is the only safe place in the sea.

I turn to look into her eyes and they’re still hazel. She’s told me she wishes she had blue eyes. I told her she makes brown eyes even more beautiful than any blue eyes I’ve seen. She told me not to say things like that. That she knows I didn’t mean it.

But I did.

“There’s something I want to talk about,” she says, her eyes pleading.

“We talked all night,” I say, my laugh forced and awkward. I want to punch myself in the face.

“Yeah,” she says, and looks out at the road ahead. The night is dark. It feels darker than usual. Like everything outside the car is a black hole. But inside the car, I’m sitting beside a little sun. A little heaven amid the darkest of Hells. That’s what life has been like these past couple months. Grief, disappointment, . . . and her.

“I know you’re going through a really rough time,” her eyes won’t leave mine. She looks like she might cry. I’m usually the one that cries, which makes sense considering everything. But she often looks like this. Her empathy leaking out of every cell she has. She cares with her whole being. It makes me feel unworthy. That she loves me like the world belongs to me. Like I’m a best friend she’s incredibly lucky to have. It makes me feel guilty for imagining what she’d look like with all her clothes off. With her body on top of mine. She looks at me like I’m as holy as her.

I’m not.

“Don’t say ‘I’m here for you.’ You’ve said that enough times.”

She shakes her head and her blonde halo shakes around her head like a flower lei. I want to touch her hair. I want to feel it on my neck as she kisses my throat.

“It’s not about that. Though of course I am.”

“What’s it about then?” I ask, eyebrows raised.

She seems to shrink into herself. Like a piece of paper crumpling itself.

“I think I like you,” she says in the smallest voice ever. She sneaks a glance at me like she’s scared I’ll shove her out of the car.

My face warms up, “Like, as more than a friend?”

She tries to sit up straighter, “It doesn’t mean anything has to happen. I mean, it could be nothing. We can be friends-”

“No.”

Her face freezes, “What?”

Her mouth is in a tiny oh like she’s a cartoon character that's surprised.

“I don’t want to be just friends.”

Her blonde eyebrows raise, then the blush spreads to the rest of her face and she struggles not to smile. She fails. The smile takes over her whole face. And then heaven comes through her as she reaches to pull me close.

My latest flash fiction piece!😁

I finally gave a listen to Taylor Swift’s debut album. I’ve been a fan of all her albums but since it’s country I assumed I’d only like a few songs. I was wrong! I liked a lot of them. I really look forward to her re-recording them, especially “Teardrops on My Guitar,” “Our Song,” and “Should’ve Said No.”

It’s amazing that Taylor has tried so many genres and somehow nailed each one. She went from bubblegum pop on Lover to two alternative albums, and I’ve loved every venture.

Anyone else glad Taylor has tried so many genres?😁

https://myumbrella.co/i-went-to-the-sky-and-back/

I’m excited to announce the cover of my poetry collection! The book is a personal journey through self-doubt and self-discovery told through fantastical poetry 🍊🌳🖤

Wrinkles & Wind

Someday I’ll have more wrinkles than

the Sahara desert in a windstorm

by then I won’t be able to make out

my own face in the mirror

But I’ll still remember the night

I learned what the poets

never got right—

They told me love is like roses and diamonds

and I have to admit that I agree

They told me anger would be like

Lightning and savage winds

and I think that’s true

But they never told me and they never

prepared me for heartbreak

They never told me someone I love

would tell me something is wrong with me

And the poets, they never did anything

to prepare me in their miserable sonnets, or

their laughing limericks for when I’d want

to dig my fingers into my own eyes and remove my

own tear ducts because I too, with tears flowing,

started to believe it

@thedragonsheepcat

Puzzle Pieces of the Heart

So my identity is nor a poet nor a writer nor a scribe nor an author Not even a name Or a race or a gender But I’m not just anyone either Not to the people that support me The ones I forget how badly I need To remind me of who I am Especially when I lose my way Since I often do-- So call me your friend, your daughter, your sister, and please Call me often Because without my inspiration I’m a poet without a pen You are my love, and I can’t live as a lover without those who are the puzzle pieces that, when put together Make my heart a whole