Somewhere between working a 9 to 5 job
And trying to keep my sanity afloat
I came to view my imagination
As more of a wild beast
Than some sort of domesticated pet.
It started out as a kennel I visited daily,
Appreciating the beauty and softness of this animal,
But the wilder my imagination became,
The more precautions I had to take.

My creativity went from a hamster on a wheel
To a snarling saber cat
Quicker than I could snap a lock
On the cage.

One day it lay dormant,
Basking in what little sunlight
Peeked through the blinds of darkness
That shuttered my mind,
And I decided a few minutes uncaged
Would be just fine.

What the hell was I thinking?

Kristin Howell



I feel like an imposter
Wearing a second skin,
Painted with all the things
People want to see;
But like a snake,
I’m ready to shed
And get rid of the little
White lies I tell myself
And those around me.
I am a cliche phoenix
Born again from the ashes
With brighter feathers
And stronger wings
And I am free to fly
Or to stay.
I choose my own path,
A divine path,
A kind path.
I will fly,
I will be happy,
And I will be wild.


even when she falls apart,
she knows she’s got it together
because instead of reaching for
a knife, she reaches for her pen
and spills ink instead of blood.
she lets her emotions run free
rather than locking them in
a fragile cage with no key,
where they batter against the bars,
the metal twisting and screeching.
she’s no longer trapped,
no longer a slave to her mind;
she broke all the locks
and let herself be wild,
weird and unapologetically