I thought I had to take a break from book thrifting and used book sales for the summer since I left San Francisco. But, today accompanying my sister on a trip to the Salvation Army and Goodwill for a retro bomber jacket for a 90s party this weekend, I stumbled upon an amazing book deal.… Continue reading Adventures of a Bookworm: Monday Gains!
I hope you die. That was the last thing you said to me. And then I did. My heart just shriveled up and crumbled like ashes. But unlike the Phoenix or Jesus, it didn’t rise again. Instead, I was pronounced dead and buried a week later. I was buried in the beautiful blue prom dress… Continue reading Last Words.
He couldn’t see her in the tiny storage closet, but he could smell her. She smelled like home. Not his home, which reeked of greasy pizza boxes and inside-out underwear, but home. She smelled of sweet pea body wash and the mint chocolate-chip gum she always kept a pack of in her purse. That was… Continue reading In a Storage Closet in Paris.
I was eating alone, at a table with a view at the entrance. A stranger walked in, headed straight to my table, and said hi. No name, likes and dislikes, life purpose, mood, or anything else came after that word. Instead, he slammed his big-bellied backpack down on the woozy, wooden table making the glasses… Continue reading The Stranger with the Tupperware
I just uploaded my first video to YouTube! A short poem I wrote inspired by Ta-Nehisi Coates and his book Between the World and Me. Please watch and share! I am also a victim to my allergies right now, so my voice may sound stuffy and low (I apologize). But i wanted to stick to… Continue reading How to Commit a Crime (Video)
Maybe all men were created equal, but somewhere down the line people began to use physical identities to define and separate us.
In a world full of crayons, I want to be a marker. Bright, bold, voluptuous, and simply fading away when my time comes. I don't want to be like a crayon-dragged around. my body and identity dismembering around me until nothing remains of me.
I was picking at a scab and opened up an old wound. As soon as the memories of you began to bleed out, I knew I was doomed. I should've never ripped off the band-aid. I should've just let the feelings fade... But now the dried up memories are fresh again. I think about you… Continue reading Scabs
Pregnancy? How could you let that be? You're only seventeen. What about a degree? Posting pictures online... Thinking everything is just fine. I'm sorry, but I'm not saying congratulations. Having a baby while still a baby should not be a celebration. Get educated, not pregnant. Find yourself, don't try to find love. Explore, don't settle… Continue reading Teen (Be One)
This is a piece I wrote when I was feeling a little down about myself. But, I am good now.