The worst part about not believing in god is that there is no one to barter with when my dads’ cancer drugs make him too weak to lift his arms he says to my mother, ‘don’t worry’ manages a smile attempting to be as luminous as his love ‘everyone dies of something,’ he says withContinue reading “Daddy Issues”
Category Archives: writing
me and alllllllllll of my sad walk into the poetry event
convinced nobody wants either of us to be there. we’ve heard we’re articulate in front of an audience but now we get stage fright just walking up to a circle of people that love us because how could they love both of us? love me and all of my ugly? in a conversation, we’re figuringContinue reading “me and alllllllllll of my sad walk into the poetry event”
I want to write a poem that makes my other poems shy.
Make them whisper to each other, ‘just who is that new girl?’ Turn their knowing eyes into awescapes like children eating their first bit of ____(your favorite childhood nostalgia treat goes here)____. I want to talk to our inner children the way we should’ve always been spoken to. our feelings given acres to run andContinue reading “I want to write a poem that makes my other poems shy.”
The future is crowdsourced.
we pick each other ‘s brains like wildflowers. capitalism has never been tender with us so we are relentlessly soft with one another. This system leaves us for dead but we keep bringing each other nourishment gift-wrapped as laughter. we keep bringing each other Alive.
It is widely known that sunflowers bend towards the sun
it isn’t true but I wish it were, that when they can’t find it, they turn towards one another. As my friend bikes across the entire city so we can trade books and sit six feet apart, I’m sure humans do that exact thing. In a pandemic, there are still poetry readings and celebrations. InContinue reading “It is widely known that sunflowers bend towards the sun”
I am somewhere beyond this existence.
the walls are made of flowers holding hands. no one gets grief for holding anyone else’s hand here you’re allowed to feel whatever you feel cry in any gender and still be seen as strong we know nothing of prejudice, capital, or constraint here save historical examples archaic relics, reminders of who we will neverContinue reading “I am somewhere beyond this existence.”
“Our tongues have a cadence.”
They move to whatever they move to and I don’t think we’ve taught them how to roll stack slide swirl push p u l l play so effortlessly off of and on top of around but never at expense of one another. their synchronicity teaches me to displace my worry of where things will goContinue reading ““Our tongues have a cadence.””
My shame is a mold that only grows in the parts of me I refuse to shed light on
refuse to talk about. I need a better flashlight a braver mouth a new dictionary to find fresh words to form familiar sounds in new ways. I write a lot of poems about growth but have you ever loved something so much you didn’t notice it never loved you back? sometimes, I’m so focused onContinue reading ” My shame is a mold that only grows in the parts of me I refuse to shed light on”
I write the wrong poem and it scores well
every season I compete with it. a few seasons in I write the one I finally mean on a subject previously too scared to touch Ironically about a time I was too scared to touch (and in both cases I didn’t speak up until) I touch stage, kill the poem the audience exactly the rightContinue reading “I write the wrong poem and it scores well”
I am not the handcuffs on my bed post,
nor what you assume they say about me. I am the steady voice that asks them to be used. not just IN control I am control even when I consensually give it away. I am a sovereign entity, allocating all this power exactly as I see fit, boundless even when bound I am safe. IContinue reading “I am not the handcuffs on my bed post,”
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