My Heart Tastes like Chicken
I gave you my heart, ripped it from my chest where it lay comfortably nestled between lily white rib bones and family dinners in front of the television. You picked it up daintily between your fingers as if it weren’t alive, as if it weren’t throbbing madly, as if it Read more
Lela Casey
Lela Casey grew up on magic and get-rich-schemes. She learned from a very early age that nothing is as it seems, and behind every facade lies a portal to places unknown. When not seeking out rabbit holes or chasing after her three little imps, she spends her time writing about deep thoughts and big adventures. You can find her writing on kveller.com, themid.com, brainchildmag.com, and jkidphilly.com.