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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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
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And then
"I think I love you."
...
...
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Panic Attacks
I thought I had gotten better
Thought I had everything under control
I have everything under control
Right?
I thought they were gone
But they're right there
Sitting behind me
Breathing into my ear
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I might
I think
I might miss this.
I might miss your smile
And the way it feels when you laugh
And
How we could talk about anything.
I might miss
Those precious few minutes spent together
Every morning
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Dear Canada
Dear Canada,
You do not belong to us.
You never have.
And I really, really hope you never will.
You are your own country, but I know I don’t have to tell you that.
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Do You Know
Do you know how many minutes I save for you
So we can be together?
Do you know how it feels
When you throw them out
For other things?
Do you know how it feels
To never feel like you're good enough