Posts
-
poppies are the color of blood
this president can turn even the solemnest of holidays into an opportunity to say whatever he wants. the gravestones crumble in their fields of poppies listening to him speak. all uppercase. all lies.
-
& i can't stop thinking about how four men carved in stone actually matter
i'd like to think that the founding fathers, the framers, the men who wore wigs & makeup & helped make all this a possibility for me, would look at our country, at the cherry blossoms refusing to bloom next to the white-columned house engr
-
middle school chorus concert
we stood on stage in black & white eyes tired but we sang til tomorrow anyways // they caught our eyes as it ended raised their hands to clap but i turned quick away convinced our performance wasn't worth more than // the quiet glint of confid
-
And What Must They Think of Our Golden Door Now?
the statue of liberty was brown once, an unprepared American girl blistering in the sun as if our Constitution has torn sharp green papercuts into her skin.
-
remember when it was winter? (soon we will remember spring rains)
it is raining right now but all me and my best friends can think about // is that tantalizing glimpse of // lemonade & too-hot days & all the rage & shorts & laughter // & late nights we can see on the slowly dipping horizon pi
-
somewhere beyond this
"Somewhere beyond the ideas of wrongdoings and rightdoings, there is a field. I will meet you there." -Rumi
somewhere sometime someplace
Loves
-
Childhood Wonder
When I was younger, summer meant going swimming, getting ice cream, and taking trips to the Montshire Museum. Now, although some of those things still apply, I experience them differently than I used to.
-
amnesia
wrap your laced-up fingers around my throat like you don’t want to breathe,
hold my pupils in your palms. do you want to smile?
amnesia. the brain doesn’t like the watercolour poem of my skeletal frame,
-
you already know summer
you've felt
the brambles and sweat,
the curl of berry-stained lips.
you've seen
the cornflower sky stolen
by a red-orange river,
the evening still thick
with lightning bugs and laughter.
-
Written in The Notes App While Listening to Sad Songs
I don’t know if I’m pretty enough for this world,
I’ve got scars from every adventure I’ve ever had.
I’ve got acne and spots no matter what I do and what I eat.
-
Something to Learn
We have something to learn from
(the toddler who smiled
while he peeled his banana
and ate it in five bites
and gave us all high fives)
(the lady with orange glasses gray hair
-
january 24th, 2010
her voice sounded heavy to her, filled
with the unnamed emotion
everyone had told her to expect. except
she hadn't. she'd rolled
her eyes at the shiny pamphlets and blog posts