a poem my body is greedy. always lusting for things that are beyond its reach. has the nerve to ask to be left alone and fights back when its lands have been encroached upon. it wants to take up all the space it has been denied for so long and dares anyone to move it along faster than it wants to. i once…

a prose my daddy is not… i mean, my father is not… not a name that sits like a wafer on my tongue. not a friend to me or anyone else; enjoys life inside his shell. not welcoming to truths that are not his; is more fond of the word…

a poem i think i make shelter inside of myself for people who are building family homes in someone else’s sunrise. i am just the summer home. i think i am pubic hair shamed and stretch marks glorified. i think i hate all of this. every inch of this. every word. every wasted…

a prose “for once, could you just write me something that will make me happy?” they asked as they shrunk and tucked their smile into the corner of their mouth. i tried not to stare at the dark tinge of their lips. It matched the color of their gums; something…

a prose when the flame was small, i nursed it. fed it the secrets from in between my thighs. i wasn’t eager to hold on to them anyway. they had always made my thighs burn in a way my slit’s slickness could never cool. then i gave it my forearms…