Writing

sometimes, i lay my head against my mother’s chest. i think. gaze up at her. and this time, when i look at my mother, i see. i see a powerful woman. she is nothing short of beautiful.

Your beauty is unlike any other

Your smile and laugh are like a fire on the coldest day of winter

Your cold hands when they touch mine bring me warmth

Your sparkling eyes are my guiding light

gold highlights the scars 
gone but can't be forgotten 
the gold reminds us 

that 

we did this we're corr-
-upted We spilt red blood from 
gold veins Remember 

I looked 

otherwise       unaltered

used to stand

I would weave in the tears of a mermaid, the breath of my love, and the drop of the ocean

The current ongoing erasing of the rights of marginalized groups in society deeply affects the people all around, as well as myself.