Micro Stories


“run away with me”

isn’t appealing to me

don’t whisper it in my ear

or dream up fanciful futures

in some far away land




spin a tail of our reality

so firm and heart breakingly beautiful

haunt my dreams

with seductions you can spin here

now, today


if you can’t spell a story

with what we’ve got

then you’re no fairy tale life


weave me a telling

better yet

entice yourself

create magic out of the ordinary



Shadow Poetry

behind the door

where there’s a little magic

there’s a little more


and if you can find a single reason

you can find it behind a door


like a butterfly’s wing –

you can’t touch it


but if you keep looking

you’ll find a key to fit


it isn’t made of gold or glowing

but if you listen ever so closely


it will speak into your fear

in wails and whispers, mostly


but beware, listen carefully

and start at step one


or one day you’ll wake up

questioning what you’ve done


in a place you don’t know

with more questions than one


like, where is all your skin

and why are you holding a gun?


Stream of Consciousness

magic peddler

if i could have any job, i’d be a magic peddler.

leave fairy dust behind in my barefooted trail, sprinkling madness into your lives, waking you up, slipping fire into your veins.

every time you’d walk the same ground i’d walked, heat would shoot through the soles of your feet, spreading chaos like a disease, giving you the choice to harness or fall to it.

i’d sell tinctures to open eyes and flush hearts of doubt. carry a deck of cards, read your past and extract the damages so you could find the slivers of silver left behind.

i’d unleash dragons and fashion lakes of healing for lepers.

charge you to swim with the mermaids (for a nominal fee) and sell second chances for pennies.

i’d brush my fingertips over lips to hush destruction and hand out re-purposed gags as bandages stitched together with bone dust of the long lost enemies of life.

i’d breath love into the lungs of the sadists parading about as saviors and poison the earth with regrowth and health.


expose truth and lies the same – break the world’s rib cage open and expose that soft, squishy, vulnerable heart beating in the dark, begging for help.

pull the sky down and sing it a lullaby. dust rain down the saddest souls, sweeping all the decay and dead skin cells out of the way. there’s no other way to prepare one for joy, not even for a magic peddler.

i’d bottle your tears and water my garden as payment. as the loveliest flowers grew, i’d place a vase on your pillow and help you pray with your heart, connecting to everything growing and thriving about you until breathing came easy.


gather many together and break open their chests, sit everything that hurt in the middle and sob together. i’d whisper magic words as you slept. help you come to, pick it all back up and put yourself back together. help you stand with rose petal splints and laughter.

maybe i’d learn to heal me too




Stream of Consciousness

‘Grow Up’ Can Get Lost

Cut the crap.

The drama.

Get over yourself.

Get over all the dramas of your life and the dramas of your relationships.


I love that the support group I go to helps me to see that I am held responsible for myself and no one else.

I can be here to support but I am not here to fix people or their situations. Enabling them will help them stay ill. Keeping them from feeling the consequences of their actions, inactions, and/or words will help them stay ill. Lying so that I appear to be who they want me to be will help them stay ill.

Not doing that.

Doesn’t matter what kind of illness it is either. There are so many addictions. So many ways for us to hurt ourselves and others.


I am responsible for me.

You are responsible for you.

My words, my actions, my issues, my pain – my responsibility to deal with.

But that’s not what I want to get into today.


Today, I want to challenge the saying, “grow up”.

I was going to add it to my thought process. My support group reminds me, tough love, grow up.

But that’s not quite right.

Tough love at times yes.

Grow up?

“Growing up” isn’t exactly getting good at life. It isn’t exactly enjoying life. It isn’t exactly living life.

At all.


Perhaps what we really need is youth. A youthful mindset.

(Not childishness. Don’t think child. Think youthful. Really, there’s a difference.)


Youth focuses on self-care and self-love and relationship with God (or whatever your Higher Power is), and then thinks of others.

Youth breathes.

Simply is.

Youth says “no” and doesn’t feel ashamed for meeting their NEEDS before someone else’s WANTS. (Don’t forget, unless you’re the parent to a child, other peoples’ needs are their responsibility to meet. You don’t disregard your needs to help someone else meet their needs because they’re good at manipulating you, or a thousand other scenarios.)

If we are to become youthful, we will know and believe we matter and so do all others; humans, animals, and nature alike.

Just breathe.

Enjoy our lives more.

Seek out what we are passionate about more.

Change our perspectives. If we make a mistake – we are NOT horrible, a loser, the scum of the earth, etc. – instead, when we make a mistake, why not think of it as an experiment?


Youthfulness realizes life is a gift.

Youthfulness accepts that life is going to hurt.

Youthfulness both knows and believes we have to create our own magic to feel our lives are magical.


Fun Stuff/ Research

For the Love of Donuts (plus Cops and maybe some Aliens)

I love donuts.

Donuts are so freaking magickal that I cannot describe in words their wonderfulness.




National Donut Day

Just in case you crazies didn’t know, last week on June 5th (it’s always the first Friday of the month) was National Donut Day!

Donut Day was established in Chicago, 1938, by the Salvation Army. During World War I and World War II, the Salvation Army took donuts to soldiers. During the Great Depression, they sold donuts to raise money.

There’s also a National Donut Day on November 5th, but I can’t seem to find where it came from. Neither can anyone else. Perhaps the aliens couldn’t make it here in June and decided to mind-ninja us into thinking National Donut Day was actually in November. Not that I’m complaining.

Both are unofficial national holidays, which is a total sin, but I’m down as long as people celebrate it. And donut shops, always good when donut shops celebrate donut day!!!




Police and Donuts

Why on earth are cops plagued by the donut stereotype? I swear they’re going to do a movie about a killer donut species that attack cops and take over their bodies. Alien donuts. Or – or! – evil donut initiation. *rolls eyes*

I mean, Jeeze. Why?

And what’s so wrong with being a donut junkie anyway? Seriously. Donuts. They are magick. As long as you don’t eat 80 of them a day, you won’t be unhealthy.

Anyone who eats donuts has a high level of intelligence (like me) because only someone extremely wise would know to eat the magick oozing, chocolate, maple, cake, and old-fashioned cakes.

But honestly – where did the stereotype come from?




No one knows for certain when it started, but there are a few theories as to why it spawned…

  • Donuts are cheap, so when the police have to ditch their food because some wacko decided to jump off the roof of your local Ben and Jerry’s, dressed like a medieval knight, demanding someone find them their stolen fairy wings – they don’t have to give up an expensive dinner that they really wanted to finish.
  • Donuts don’t go bad that easily. Well, some do, but most can stay in the box throughout the day. That way they can eat them whenever they get the chance.
  • In a lot of places, donut shops are the only places that stay open all day and night long. It wasn’t until recently that food places stayed open past the late evening.
  • Cops drink a lot of coffee. They have to stay awake practically all day and night long with quick bursts of unconsciousness. Who sells a lot of coffee? Donut shops. Guess what else they sell a lot of, which happens to be cheap, filling, don’t go bad or melt easily, and are sweet? Donuts. Imagine that.
  • Some donut shops will give police free donuts, for two reasons. One, law enforcement are in the business of protecting their city, so maybe it’d be nice to give them some free donuts. And two, having cops sit in your shop is kind of like having free bodyguards. No one is going to break into your corner donut shop with four cops sitting there. It is probably a good thing to point out that its illegal and considered bribery in some places though.
  • Donut shops have a place to sit down inside. For beat cops, that’s nice. Some police have even said that at night, it’s helpful to have a lit table to do paperwork at. (too much paperwork for Daphne)




So see – there are perfectly good reasons for cops to eat donuts. However, I also read in a few places that it’s a generational love. Some newer cops have either been driven away by the stereotype or believe sugar is the devil.


Me? I just want some freaking donuts.


Do you enjoy donuts?