Posts
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Remembering Snow Days
This piece is a textual representation of what I was thinking this morning when I woke up to a snow day. My university classes are cancelled for today and it reminded me of what it felt like to be a kid on a snow day playing outside.
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Eleven Years
For eleven years, I've been a part of the YWP community. I started when I was 11 years old and I went by my old name back then. I used to publish my work here all the time, but much of my publishing has now moved to my university.
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A Nine-Year Journey
For nine years, I've been a part of YWP and for nine years, I've felt seen by this community. Even as I've grown up, I've watched new young writers come and share their thoughts, emotions, and stories. -
Beaming writer
In sixth grade, our class had a show-and-tell every week,
and every week, a small handful of students were selected to participate in the next one.
As I was selected, anxiety kicked in.
I wasn't really proud of anything. -
Love And Embalming
They carried you away in a black hearse.
Our black eyes,
beaten and bruised by love,
caressed your black coffin.
They opened your casket and there you were,
your eyes closed,
relaxed and so cold,
and yet you seemed so alive. -
The Throbbing Fires of Longing
It comes and goes in waves,
the throbbing in my throat,
in my chest,
and in my heart.
It seeps in and out again,
the fires in my eyes,
in my stomach,
and in my lungs.
It flaps and thrusts about,
Loves
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Bubble World
Some of us live in our own bubble world.
Eat, sleep, drink.
Live, don't die, don't worry, don't care.
Move on.
They ignore, ignore, ignore, trying so hard to live their lives without strife.
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The house
“On a dark and stormy night”
“Oh don’t start like that…Those stories are always stupid,” I say as I adjust my seating position. “Can’t I just go trick or treating now?”
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18 days, 14 hours, and 53 minutes
I saw a photo of myself from freshman year
I didn’t love how I looked, cringed at it—a knee-jerk reaction to my ugly, green shoelaces—but not necessarily just because of my physical appearance
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When You Are Old
When you are old
Your skin will become like paper,
And your bones will be like the wooden ribs
Of a lantern
So that the world will see the light in your chest.
But I don't need to wait -
So much bigger than us
When I visited my cousin in Washington DC
it was
so
loud
so
many
people
everywhere I went
people
people
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stranger to blue water
sing to me.
i've been a stranger once more
to your hills and valleys, to the
gaps of sunlight between your grasping evergreens.
i've been a stranger
to the red barn