Random Writings From My Phone

I am not who you want me to be nor will ever be.

You can dig your nails in, scratch and claw like a bird with a worm.

But you can not change me.

The characters that I create are splintered pieces of my soul.

They are pieces of me that hide, pieces of me that no one sees.


Someone told me once that the kindest people can become the most deadly.

That the sweetest can become the most bitter.

Of course I didn’t realize they were talking about me.


“What’s your favorite part of the 21st century so far?”


“No. Really. Be serious.”

“I am. My favorite part is you. You don’t see Captain America. You see me, Steve. The artist. That kid from Brooklyn. I’ve been awake for 6 months but it’s only these past few weeks with you that I’ve really felt alive.”


“When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning. I need…I need to knlw who I am.”

“Be careful. Okay?”

“Of course.” “What’s this?”

“My lucky bracelet. Thought you could use it. Plus I don’t want you to forget me, Mishka.”

“Like I ever could.”


You have a beautiful smile they say or they say you should smile more

So I nod and give another smile, like I’m not brittle inside, like a dying leaf

Keep on smiling, all wide and toothy

Like a commerical for a toothpaste, That says use this and you’ll have a beautiful smile too

I smile until I feel like my face is stuck like that, like my face is going to crack and shatter into a million little pieces

Like that old wives tale

This smile is false, Carved on my face

And no matter what,

It nevers seems to fall

It never dims

It’s an illusion

This smile

But you can’t tell

So you say I have a beautiful smile

While inside I’m crying and slowly dying inside


You are crooked glasses, always sliding down your nose.

You are patterned leggings and baggy sweaters over sports bras.

You are messy hair to your shoulders or up in a perpetually falling bun.

You are ink and paint stained fingers.

You are a towering pile of notebooks with it’s own code.

You are the scrambling search for a notebook and scratching down ideas before they fade.

You are the canvas that one day will be filled.

You are dark brown eyes that gleam either black or gold.

You are bright blue eyeliner and red lipstick.

You are mismatched jewelry, leather and silver and gemstones.

You are a brilliant smile and kind eyes but a quick tongue.

You are well-placed one liners that make people laugh.

You are…me.


Hope you enjoyed my random drabbles! I write on my phone sometimes on Samsung notes. I thought I would share some random poems and dialogue for a Captain America fanfiction and such!


Starting a Podcast (One Day)

I have been thinking about starting a podcast. It’s an idea that’s been brewing in my head since DC. I think it’d be fun and well different.

What would my podcast be about?

Honestly it’d probably be like this blog. A sporadic sampling of my life, thoughts, opinion, ideas, hopes and dreams. It’d be most likely unscripted which if done right could be cool or terrible.

I was doing some research a few months ago. It seems that it’s sort of half and half on if people like scripted or not scripted podcasts. Some people like when the episode has a plan and they don’t want to hear some stranger ramble about their life. But some people do like that. It depends on the audience.

I found a lot of podcasts that are popular that I need to start listening to. Get an idea of different types pf podcasts. Podcasts are becoming a huge deal – sort of like blogs were when I had my first blog on Weebly. That’s something I want to break in to.

So what do I need to do? First, listen to some podcasts. I have an entire list. Time to listen! I like listening to NPR in the mornings even though I don’t like the news so I might like a few podcasts.

Second, who is my target audience? What will my podcast mostly be about? Even if it’s unscripted there needs to be at least some idea of what the podcast is about.

Third, come up with a name and a cover for the podcast. Do I want to use the same name as this blog “The Inner Workings?” Or do I need something more quirky and attention catching? I’ve been thinking about having like a persona on it too by using one of my nicknames.

My nicknames are: Keke, Keels, Artemis (or Artie) and Jinx.

If I do go with a “persona” which nickname. Should I base the name of the podcast off that?

As you can tell I have a lot of work to do. My question(s) for you is:

  1. Which nickname should I use?
  2. Do you have any podcasts to recommend?
  3. Do you have any ideas for podcasts names?
  4. Be creative and have fun!!

Anyways that’s me for the day! Keeping up with this streak!


Prudence (A Poem)

She takes each step with caution,

Like she is walking on shattered glass

Her kitten heel shines like a mirror,

Shirt pressed and tuckes into a neat black skirt

Every piece of hair is in it’s place,

Eyelashes as perfect as Audrey Hepburn’s and lips like Marilyn Monroe

Her mouth forms every word, enunciating every syllable like a lover

Her entire life is planned, written down in complete detail

She can’t stray from what she does in fear that once again she will fall into the abyss

She stays cautious and steady, like a river, firm and strong like the tallest moutain

After all, her name is. . . .


(Poem inspired by a word my aunt gave me. Cover photo a picture I took of myself a few weeks ago)


Elevator Ride: A Poem

Elevator Ride: A Poem 

Once again, I found,

an elevator down

in Stabler Hall 

With careful steps 

we all crowded in

like ten little sausages 

in a row, 

trying not to breathe

We all carried backpacks 

as we pressed against each other 

a bit awkwardly

Strangers became friends – 

or rather acquaintances 

on the elevator

We all laughed at the closeness, 

at the suffocation of ten people

with ten backpacks in a small elevator


via Daily Prompt: Stifle


In elementary school we used to get these writing prompts such as “What did you do this summer?” or “What’s your favorite color and why?” or even “What do you want to be when you grow up?” They were silly and basic, a quick little assignment that wasn’t worth anything except maybe a piece of candy if you read yours out loud. While the other students rolled their eyes and hastily wrote something for credit, I was the student who carefully wrote. I was the student who always shared what I wrote, and not because I wanted the candy – that was a bonus. I shared what I wrote because I was proud of it. I liked the writing assignments, even as silly as they were. In elementary school, my love for writing began. In elementary school, my dream to be an author began.

In middle school, I was the same way. We did the same silly prompts, only now the responses had to be longer. I still wanted to be an author. I once wrote this play called “Vampirella.” It was dreadful. Seriously dreadful. It was some Halloween-esque Cinderella story. Interesting idea, poor delivery. But at the time, I was very proud of it. (Of course now I look at it and mentally cringe.)

Writing for me as always been a way to express myself, whether through a play, a poem or a short story. Writing was a way to get out those emotions that I wasn’t always comfortable showing. Writing, in many ways, has saved my life.

In high school, I wrote a lot of poems. Seriously angst-y typical teenage girl poems. Were they incredible? No. Trust me, most of them were not good in any fashion, but it helped me.

Writing is therapy. Not only for myself, but for others.

My goal when I write is to make people happy. But it’s more than that. I want to change their lives. I want them to read my writing and have a “huh” moment. I write not only to save myself, but in the hope that maybe, just maybe, I’ll save someone too. Just like reading Harry Potter, Inkheart, Eragon, The Lord of the Rings, etc., saved me. Those stories helped me to forget – even just for a moment – about what was going on in my life. And I hope that one, my stories will do the same.

Why do you write? Feel free to comment!