just today I reminded my parents that I only have two more months of being a teenager. in further conversation, my dad, who argued that nineteen years olds are not …
Category:
Poetry
……………… Sure, I would paint my skin Into a colorless colour, & I would dye my hair Wear two blue contacts, & I would even Go for plastic surgery, but …
when i was a child i’d mistake her for my mother …..or my mother for her in the roundness of her face circular cheeks forever youthful black wire horsehair artist’s …
I play with the fire of my own truth. I will burn for the things I love. from Mahabharata I was won by a man wielding a bow. Then a …
We need to move, you, me, the dog. We need to go somewhere, a small house with more space. Somewhere where this life cannot get to us. The dog will …
Some days you wake up and realize that it has been over a decade since you last hugged your mother and you see her every day. There’s a canyon between …
My manicurist tells me she left her country because she sought a better life. Now she makes people pretty for a living. I watch her draw little flowers on my …
He tries so hard to prove himself— Through every syllable, every word, he enunciates slowly, Pursuing excellence, perfection but, the words refuse to cooperate with his work. And so, he …
Tired, so tired, held up by fraying strings, she’d drag us through throngs at sales. We’d shrivel, she’d fume. “Service! I need service!” Clerks could never shush her. At restaurants, …
At the grade eight dance, they find you hiding behind folded lunch tables, seize your hands and feet, drag you across the floor like a mop. On the dance floor, …