My mind is a vortex, but I am not my mind. Poetry is a desperate expression trying to meet its…
Browsing: Andrew Littlefield
My mental health journey is like doing a boardslide all the way around the Warehouse in Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater…
What if all the horrible things we do to ourselves In our minds and in our hearts Are to keep…
Recovery has gifted me so many things, but the gift that overwhelms me the most is the love it has…
It seems that in its search for eternal balance, my brain has decided that for every time I feel good,…
Sometimes I wish I could die at my desk. I could silently slide into the bliss of never having to…
Today was another difficult day. I woke up with the nausea that had been hounding me for weeks, preventing me…
I never had a father, Just a sperm donor Who acted like a father So that society would feed his…
One day I awoke and told myself I was sad. Thus, my childhood died. I remember smiles; laughter from the…
In today’s world, it’s easy to feel lost. Inflation is skyrocketing, housing costs are spiraling out of control, and we…
For years I have dreamed of a project: To write everyone I loved and tell them why I love them,…
Hubris. It’s a word we often associate with arrogance, with the idea that someone thinks they’re invincible. But in my…
Who have I become in the absence of superficial desires and the presence of a meaningful life? Once God finds…
I fear my subconscious is a predator. I fear it knows all of my weaknesses and manipulates me into hating…
There are flies in my apartment, and I only have excuses. I forgot to take out the garbage last week…