my mother used to bake her dreams into my dinner to make up for the ones she lost in the delivery room and lately i’ve been crumbling beneath the weight of ways i could… read more

i missed your call the other day. i eat my apples sliced. i am nineteen. i am healing from things i did not tell my mom. i am healing from things i did tell… read more

i remember this time when / i was eight years old and / i thought i could save everyone so / i hid your bottles in my bedroom / buried them beneath stuffed animals… read more

after Michelle Awad’s “I used to be a poet” i used to be a writer / because someone once told me i talked too much / but that was only after someone else said… read more

whats your favorite color? have you ever been in love? dogs or cats? did you have someone who already knew the answers to these questions? are you trying to unlearn their address too? do… read more

i think i forgot how to drive so i’ve been doing laps around your old neighborhood. partly because i know everything’s changed and partly because i know nothing’s changed and all i’ve ever known… read more

i’ve decided that i let you off the hook too easily. never wrote your name in a poem or demanded an apology. i could’ve been red with my anger. spit it onto your doorstep… read more

originally written june 2025 at nineteen my reflection is laffy taffy pink, stretched to its limit and spun around a knife. at nineteen my best friends live in a screen, and i press my… read more

it’s november, after all, the air feels heavier while the sky churns itself into the deepest shade of blue it owns. you hold the carton of milk like a memory, expired before you even… read more