Poetry
I wrote this poem after receiving my stickers from REDBUBBLE, most/all of my new stickers being about race, religion, mental health or feminism. My Mother gave me one of those mother looks and asked why everything needs to be a statement. My mother likes to say that I have made my life a statement. That letting
The Greek goddess Diana is queen of the hunt and of nature. This poem is inspired by the chilling air outside and the metaphorical death of nature, as the leaves begin to fall and the frost starts inching in. The brilliance pierces holes in her flesh; she sews her silhouette Into the hazy fading patches.
the first boy that kissed me held my shoulders down like the handlebars of the first bicycle he ever rode i was five he had the smell of starvation on his lips which he picked up from his father feasting on his mother at 4 a.m. he was the first boy to teach me my
This poem came to me spontaneously late at night, while I was huddled under every blanket I own. The house was chilly, and snow was falling lightly outside. Yet, I did not feel lonely at all. I only felt comfort, as if there was another presence in the room with me. That’s when I began
On Jan. 20, 2018, I attended my first Women’s March in Los Angeles. The community I felt with nearly a million strangers was a new feeling — foreign but familiar at the same time. The sense of belonging motivated me to jot down a few lines about my experience. I dedicate this to every participant
I wrote this poem as quick as one breathes. Having lived in Spain for a few months, I realized I am always searching, unconsciously, for someone with whom I can go back home at night. My parents always tell me to text them once I am in my room, no matter the hour. I know
In a way, this poem is inexplicable but then the words are pretty self-explanatory at the same time. There are always those times that come in life where nothing makes sense. It seems like so much is against you and suddenly, you lose yourself in negativity. These words from created from my nightmares, in a
Sometimes the best times to write are at 2 in the morning, when sleep fails you. These are some thoughts that surged in that drowsy and melancholy state, and I hope that if someone connects to the poem, they will feel a little less alone upon discovering that they’re not the only ones with little
I wrote this as a channel for my feelings about a few select thoughts that have been bothering me lately. Though perhaps a fitting metaphor for some situations — and something many of you have probably lived through — this was written with delight and warmth. Enjoy. Oh you, who I chose not to invite,
I wrote this for someone who I believe is the universe’s greatest treasure. I don’t know what force in this universe is responsible for the creation of this individual’s grace, but I’m grateful for them.. Thank you to the stars. I’d like to thank each star in the sky for bringing you into our universe
