Poetry

“Protect the children,” you scream, Marjorie, as if your hands aren’t red with the harm you create. You aim your laws like loaded guns,...

I lock the bathroom door, twist it tight so no one can come in. Steam covers the mirror, and for a second, I don’t see myself. For a...

I was nineteen when silence swallowed me whole, When trust morphed into a knife he slipped between my ribs. He told me, “You’re special,”...

The hallway reeks of gym socks and cheap Axe, the kind they spray like armor, thinking it makes them invincible. Lockers slam like...

I am a child. They taught me about freedom in school, Showed me flags, said justice was the rule. But something feels broken, I don’t...

We were boys once, barely more than whispers in the world’s noise, stitched together by the soft hum of a classroom and the secret codes...

The beat pounds like a second heart, steady and unrelenting, a rhythm that drowns out thought but not the ache. Neon smears across skin—...

I used to sit by the window, watching the snow, Wondering if someone would see me, would know. I’d press my hand to the glass, feeling...

I sit by the window, the frost on the glass, Watching the snow as the moments pass. The lights in the distance are bright, they glow, But...

This poem is written from the perspective of Devon Daniels, an eleven-year-old boy in foster care and a character in one of my short...

You think you’ve got me figured out. Like my chaos is a puzzle you’ve solved, like you’ve cracked the code of what it means to live...