Posts
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Things To Tell My Younger Self
Your home will be forever changing. Your life will not be measured by the dents in a wall, or the pictures on the ceilings. You will not have a childhood best friend.
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Crusty Child
Crusty child,
rub your dry eyes,
flap your birdlike limbs,
stare with an open mouth.
Are you hungry?
Are you sad?
Are you tired of being a crusty child?
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Ugandan Evenings
Pale peach fading
Into hazy blue sky
Backdropped against lush greenery
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Revelation/Revitalization
And it was at that time…poetry arrived.
Or rather,
I fell into it.
Idly turning pages,
lips mindlessly mouthing words,
transcribing sounds into sentences.
From mud it called me. -
If I Was to Travel Back in Time
I’d see a few things:
The sweet girl my father claims I used to be.
The daughter who adored her dad,
making guitar sounds as a way of insisting
he play his favorite musician -
My Head Underground
Is it wrong for me to ask so much of the world? To ask it to be happy, healthy, and kind? My concern is innately selfish, since my own well being depends on its state of mind.
Loves
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belly buttons and beating hearts
I clung to my baby blanket that wrapped around my limbs. my limbs, small and swollen, cushioned by my mother's organs. I was warm, I clung to the insulation of two beating hearts.
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My Light
My babysitter,
Brother,
Sister,
And I,
Huddle on the green couch.
Her laptop,
Shiny silver,
Is opened
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