Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
Why does our new house always feel dark? Some nights, the darkness steals my sleep, seeping from the corners of my bedroom. Is the house gloomy, or the people inside? The backyard looks so light, so bright, but it’s merely the snow’s reflection. My mother has a new bird book, Read more
And what I didn’t say haunts me What I did say does haunt me. I’ll never be soft again. I’ll be with claws, sharp teeth, and sharp eyes that scream “don’t go near me.” In my next life, I will say those words. But I won’t. What I didn’t say Read more
See how she scuttles across the floor The cold tile numbs, then burns Her palms, knees, shins All portions of flesh pressed on The harder thing—the hardest thing Not cursed yet— —Soon Then there’s this back The thing that holds her together The thing she’s built around Grew up around Read more
People ask me about the color of my hair, but they don’t care—why would they? — about the color of my thoughts. People ignore the pink-copper hues of my ideas— gondolas gliding through my brain; they don’t see their turquoise blue shades— paper boats caught in a vortex. People ask Read more
Of our family tree you are a branch life’s cruel disposition removed from us when I was young; memories of you faded as years lapsed by the way a tree forgets leaves it shed over the years. Leaving me with stories my mother tells about the love you had for Read more
That girl, She was young, caring, kind, but naive. She was shy, hair as long as a mermaid, eyes filled with hope for the future. She was fifteen, beginning the process of figuring herself out, the person she wants to be. He was one year older, Dirty-blonde hair, blue eyes, Read more
