New Englander
Living with Lupus
Lover of Language, Cats, Tea, and Rainy Days.
lupus has been one big pull my head floating a sensation being pulled back away from my eyes pulled down. down. (what's the worst
By Erin Sheaa day ago in Poets
I’ve stopped clenching my jaw, but I’m hyperaware of the sharpness of my teeth. I’ve learned yoga breathing But I feel silly doing it.
By Erin Sheaabout a month ago in Poets
First round's on me if... "you're fun" The only upside to this response is his correct grammatical usage of "you're." Too many dating app matches have texted me "your pretty" which always makes me grit my teeth.
By Erin Shea3 months ago in Humans
One time my OBGYN prescribed me antidepressants. Her name was Tracey, and she had cutesy pins of uteruses on her white doctor’s coat. Do we have to hyper-femininize everything?
By Erin Shea5 months ago in Viva
I'm up late reading when I get the Apple news app notification. Ukraine is under attack. My first thought is, "when words fail..."
By Erin Shea5 months ago in The Swamp
$10.13 an hour 15 hours a week Your run-of-the-mill retail job My very first job. I was 17 And weekday closing shifts were my favorite.
By Erin Shea5 months ago in Poets
My congratulatory flowers are starting to wilt. Slowly. Purposefully. My nightstand drawer is open. It collects the fallen petals.
By Erin Shea6 months ago in Poets
My heating pad lives by my bed. Its chord, irreparably tangled from restless mornings, noons, and nights, having to sustain warmth for my greedy, cold self. I use it until my face is flushed.
By Erin Shea8 months ago in Psyche
In high school, us gals had this obsession with taking candid photographs. We were desperate for this sliver of authenticity in social media (a paradox in and of itself). Practiced poses and copy and pasted grins only brought us so far.
Sitting in yet another waiting room, I learn that Adam Sandler is the director and producer of The Price is Right. Not that Adam Sandler, silly. Not the Big Daddy, ultra-rich but casually dressed Adam Sandler we all know and love.
By Erin Shea9 months ago in Fiction
The sun serves as a formidable pair of eyes a peerless audience helpful, in a way - though I keep my gaze cast low. I let the sun see my bare shoulders,
By Erin Shea9 months ago in Poets
The forlorn, human shape is so recognizable. Unblinking despondency carved into stone, earth, clay, and canvas. It's remarkably easy to paint despair --
By Erin Shea10 months ago in Poets
