To Be a Warrior 

To be a warrior one must learn to wait silently in the shadows. We must gather our quiet into the arching pull back of our bow. We must watch. We must observe. We must not fall into senses of time. To be a warrior one must paint themselves into the colors of their own vulnerability, … Continue reading To Be a Warrior 

The Outhouse and a Sears Magazine

When I was a child growing up on Sam Fife's cult compound in Alaska, we did not have electricity or plumbing. As a result, we used the bathroom in chamber pots and outhouses. We also did not have toilet paper. Our toilet paper was often a Sears magazine with anything that wasn't "proper" for us … Continue reading The Outhouse and a Sears Magazine


There's a faded line Between reality and time I Catch myself remembering rejection Straddling a log fence watching Them play and laugh and shout Odd girl out Too loud I used to be an expert at stilts Stride the mud like a queen I could do anything If I just believed but I never prayed hard enough to Make God real and It would be a version of Drop Dead Fred who Emerged the memories in my head Read more...


After cult life IKnow what it's likeRun across the roadIn the dark nightSteal vegetablesFrom the neighboring farm And it harm noneMama formed the missionHolding her BibleA glory soaked misfit Cold seeped doorwaysOn an old trailerIn lot Number sevenPiling up blanketsSummers fanning heat There was no heavenIn our empty stomachsOr a cruel mother whoStood us in … Continue reading Poverty

“Victim Speaks Out, While Cult Leader Awaits Trial”

"Told in a restrained but highly effective style, reminiscent of Kazuo Ishiguro’s brilliantly understated bestseller "Never Let Me Go", "Cult Child" provides frightening insights into the methods and after-effects of religious coercion. Her fortress is no bigger than the space between her ears; but through quiet internal resistance, Sila halts her opponents and outlasts their … Continue reading “Victim Speaks Out, While Cult Leader Awaits Trial”


Shattered intoA host of ghostsI never saw a demonSave in the memoriesOf my screaming And days aren'tAll fucking prettyJust because I'm notLamenting the acheThat sometimesSettlesIn my core There's so muchLeft to tellAnd I'm in fractalsSorting out facesIn the spacesGone black The cavesWith a hundred eyesLooking backWaiting toFeed the fearMock the tearsThen disappear ShatteredScatteredDark matter That's … Continue reading Shattered