Welcome to the Mercurial Muser

I used to be

something.

I used to

love art.

Now I get angry

dusting

the same landscapes—

no closer than

my living room.

My husband likes

to remind me

how I used to fuck

like a bad girl

underneath the sun.

His friends used to have

group chats

dedicated

to the bathing suits

I wore

in the summer heat.

Like I was

supposed to

never degrade—

only bloom

for the love

of a man.

Now I have

a favourite spatula

and trade

in Rae Dunn

collectibles.

I used to

believe in

uprisings

and pixelated dreams

pasted to

a poster board.

Like I was

supposed to

grow up.

But instead,

I’m growing in.

A muzzle to wear

over that pretty

filthy mouth,

a tiny, beaded noose

from a craft kit

kept high

in the cupboard,

a fading light

kept alert by

a persistent

electronic tether—

all it’s good for is to check the weather.

(all it’s good for is to check the weather)

But the sky

ain’t blue today...

Lessons We Learned From The Sea: Bedtime Adventures with Hemingway & an Ocean-Loving Seven-Year-Old

Lonely Hunters & Tender Heresies: Whispers from My Inner Life

In another life, I live in a sleepy Southern Gothic town—no racists, no debutantes, just heat, quiet, and the scent of old wood and summer rain. I own a little coffee shop that doubles as a bookstore, converted from an old Baptist church tucked behind a leaning fence and a row of wild hydrangeas. The cemetery sits just off in the distance. On breaks, I trace my fingers over the worn epitaphs of crumbling headstones, if only to ward off a sense of inner decay.

Mom Bod Malfunctions: Unplanned Surgeries and Other Postpartum Plot Twists

If losing my last 15 lbs and fitting back into size 4 pants wasn’t already a formidable enough challenge, my doctor just informed me I now need surgery to repair an umbilical hernia that contains not just fat, but also some of my intestine. Cool. Cool. Just what I needed. I mean, vomiting for nine hours straight post-delivery, coming this close to a stroke in the days that followed, getting hit by a distracted driver and having my van totalled with my kids inside (hello,

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