Pastry chef by day, insomniac writer by night.
Find here: stories that creep up on you, poems to stumble over, and the weird words I hold them in.
Or, let me catch you at www.suzekay.com
Everyone searches for a voice that says yes in the dark. Of my soul, it says little but needs much: hands, money, silk. It settles for a dream and a word,
By Suze Kay2 years ago in Poets
Steven takes me to see LaLa Land the day after Ellie leaves New Haven. He's seen it already, but that's ok: he'll love it all the more for seeing it again. He promises. In the uber to the theater, he gushes over Ryan Gosling. I stare in numb horror at the conspicuous neon glare of my hospital socks through the straps of my Birkenstocks.
By Suze Kay2 years ago in Humans
Melanie can't tell what's worse: the storm, or the thin-ice tensity between herself and Dan. For long miles, the only sound in the beat-up Subaru has been the crunch of its worn treads over snow furrows. She minds those frozen lines. They're her only lane guides. They're a promise from a traveler who made it through.
By Suze Kay2 years ago in Fiction
play it again. dig up a sticky coin from your endless pocket and let the arcade-crazed crowd scream and jostle your arm against mine as we
Before I die I must suffer So I may better love Being alive // Nothing brings me comfort When I fight for what I want
if you tell me where we're going then i'll tell you where i went after the marathon. you won't like it. i did. you sent me like an orphan to the countryside in wartime, you wouldn't look me in the eye so i did, in the mirror: teeth bared, never flossing.
Are you curious? When you nose the dark It knows you back. It pulls and repels your ruff And keeps your tail low. Tread light.
It was well after 8AM, but Lola could hardly tell. All that crossed through the blinds was a weak, grayish light. In her old apartment, light poured in through her tall windows as soon as the sun rose. Not here, in a ground-floor apartment where all the windows faced a neighboring building.
Always on the road, sloughing off the remains of Bethlehem behind me. It was there I bore the Child. It was there I ascended
When my cousin turned 25, we laid out on the boathouse dock and watched the Perseids interrupt the same old sky. "Do you have any goals for this year?" I asked her.
By Suze Kay2 years ago in Writers
Hello, death. I got your message. I found the gift. The possum on the roadside whose pouch I checked for babies; colder than air. Emptier, too.
Come 2AM, I'll call to remind you: No one is an empty sea. No one loves no one, and no one is loved. // I affect the world and the world effects me.
