When I open my phone and see the news, I always see something, something about the Black man and how he is being oppressed, but what about the Black woman?
Read morePieces of the Past, A Poem
I store my memories away in a box in my mind
Read moreComing up for Air, A Poem
Finally, I can breathe the air of strength.
Read moreMy Seemingly (But Not Actually) Painful Writing Process, An Essay
If someone was to watch me — like a fly on the wall — write from afar, the things that they would see are completely uncharacteristic of me
Read moreA Writer’s Playlist
In order to ease the inevitable panic that is essay-writing, I have compiled a list of songs that inspire me while I write, in hopes that they will inspire you.
Read moreWaves, A Poem
Worries blend into the vast waters.
Read more"Etchings of Words," A Poem
The door is adorned with empty lines
and there are no locks, no bolts, no handles.
What lies beyond the door
remains trapped.
The mind hears knocks,
wind coming from behind the door.
The hum of detectives, lovers, birds
pouding on the door.
The sound starts to blend into one harmony —
loud voices where emotions and notes are expressed.
It bears the marks of streaks
and shrieks for the knight in shining armor
until the writer has no other choice,
but to push the door
that is littered with crumpled pieces of paper
etched with pen marks, pencil marks, and eraser shavings.
Unleash the imagination,
it flows endlessly like the words in language.
Simply like turning the pages of a novel,
silence the voices
by creating more voices.
Without the pounding anymore, there’s music —
lyrics of stories decorate and blur,
the door is painted with words.