i hear your raised voices from upstairs. what happened to dinner? Mom getting mad. dad getting mad. something about how she always says sorry. she deserves an apology. what happened to dinner? dad knows, he says. he tells her he is confused. he tries. he tries. but nothing stops my mother, not now. my sister comes up the stairs. crying. what happened to dinner? she wonders. i wonder. eventually it dies off. their words echo. what have they done? what happened to dinner?

All these colors meant something. They were the rainbow between our hearts linking them together like paper chains in 1st grade. 1st grade was so easy, boys had cooties and girls wore too much pink and it was fun to steal their glasses and head bands. The best part out of all of this nonsense was we played. Together, we played as one race of humans, no prejudice. We fought over dolls and whose outfit was better.

What is darkness?
It is a blackness
It is a lack of light
It is where fear comes from
It is where fear is conquered
It is the rest after a long day
It is the hope that tomorrow will be better
It is the hope that tomorrow I will be better
It is the opposite of light
It is the partner of light
So why do we shun it?

Dear American History,

My name is Bianca. I'm African American but my name means white and pure. It's an Italian name. I love my name and I thinks it's beautiful. It represents the opposite of who I am as a person and when people hear my name and they seem. They're shocked because I wasn't what they expected. I am me. I am Bianca. 
 

Welp, this isn't normal.
I mean what else can I say?
There were bigots out there,
With torches and flames.

Meanwhile I'm here,
Alone, and safe in my room,
While hatred reigns out there,
This spells out our doom.

Yet safe here in the mountains,
I'm just a kid, a freshman soon.
That's right, I'm going into highschool.
God, it's so weird to think of school.

When out there people are shouting,

how can I make something out of nothing,
when nothing seems to be a concept not a truth,
for example take these words,
the very words I am writing
If I took them off the page,
would there nothing,
no, there would be a blank computer screen
and your blank face trying to process
why exactly I have entered a full page of nothing.
But here again is a play on words.
You use words that do not fit,
and you waste the words completely.

“You want something healthy, yes? How about this amazing salmon? No? Why?! It tastes ‘fishy’?!!! Oh, No! No! Fresh fish is not ‘fishy’ at all!” Here goes the usual exclamation when someone hears I don’t like fish. First things first, fish, no matter how fresh it is, is fish. I don’t care if it was fried still in convulsions. Fish is…. fishy.

I'm sitting in the living room with my parents and their friend. Somebody brings up climate change - maybe me; talking about the project I'm doing on it, maybe someone else; mentioning the strange weather.

It's laughed off. "Here comes the beach!" somebody chuckles.

This isn't a joke.