I'm a freelance ESL tutor and writer living South Korea. I've had a few poems and short stories published in various anthologies including Becoming Real by Pact Press.
I'm a lover of cats, books, Hozier, and bugs.
Medium
Ko-fi
White house, white walls, white hands, white family, white in a glass, nothingness and a sour stench. A hand on her hip, a scowl, a stare, how dare I let her money slip away, how dare I be so wasteful.
By Kera Hollowabout 2 hours ago in Poets
I have two chances to pet a tiger, my left arm and my right, without a quiver of hesitation, I’ll believe the animal can sense my animal, a thumping beat of a heart, full of compassion, patience, and blood.
By Kera Hollow2 days ago in Poets
I wanted to be an artist, when I was young and yearning for a romantic sort of life, I dreamed of an easel in the corner
By Kera Hollow4 days ago in Poets
It can’t be easy being a good parent. It requires patience, time management skills, emotional and physical endurance, and the capacity to love someone more than yourself.
By Kera Hollow9 days ago in Families
After a turbulent childhood of neglect and dysfunction, I entered my teens desperate to connect with my peers and find a way to numb painful memories.
By Kera Hollow14 days ago in Psyche
I went pants shopping today, I went to a new store, one with a flashy SALE sign on its windows I went straight to the wall,
By Kera Hollow19 days ago in Poets
If we are not in tune with our bodies, if trauma or dissociation distorts our natural rhythms, we are unable to feel a sense of agency over our lives.
By Kera Hollow23 days ago in Psyche
As the black needle gyrates in my tender skin art blossoms alive.
By Kera Hollow24 days ago in Poets
The hole in my ceiling isn't quite ready. It isn't deep enough nor wide enough for me to slip into my upstairs neighbor's apartment.
By Kera Hollow30 days ago in Fiction
Your latte ready and cooling on the black tray makes my brown ice melt.
By Kera Hollow30 days ago in Poets
I can't recall what it feels like to be a child, touching the coarseness of dry grass for the first time, and smiling without adult worries-
By Kera Hollowabout a month ago in Poets
This poem is for you, mother, despite the way you brutalized me with your words, mother, despite the way you hardly cared for you daughter, and-
