Dear Teenage Me,

Your palms are sweaty The questions overwhelming It’s not your fault, says the voice in the room Your fists clench the psychologist’s fancy chair I already know that, you want to say But, you don’t So far removed from the stuffy office Your heart wanders To memories of the past year To the questions they … More Dear Teenage Me,


You know those nights where you are tossing and turning until the sun rises because your thoughts are going about a million miles per hour? And, no cup of chamomile tea or soothing spa music is going to do the trick? Yeah, that is what the past couple nights have been for me. So, I … More Calling.