It doesn't always come out in pretty words. Sometimes, it comes out raw and untamed, hideous or insane. Or sometimes, just plain words that mean exactly what they're saying. But only the beautiful poems get frames. You say they help you heal; you claim you don't need any help bleeding. The clots in the veins… Continue reading Beautiful Words Unlike Me.
Perhaps you see humans as complex figurines, complete with sophisticated AI so that we can talk back to you when you speak. Perhaps you see life as a blank page offering you creative license, so you write and you draw until all the marks melt into chaos. When there's no more space left to make… Continue reading Bulldozer
There are parts of being in love that are far from romantic. Like your lover dealing with hurt so deep it pierces your own chest. Understanding is never enough; intellect and sympathy are nearly powerless against pain. So you walk the line between desperation and helplessness, wishing more than anything that you could make problems… Continue reading The Hero I Am Not
People who are dying of thirst know that they need water to survive. That if they raise their voices to ask, someone may just bring it. We always assume those dying of thirst would like their thirst quenched. Sometimes, they would not. It is a curious thing, the mind of a person who does not… Continue reading We Will Not Pray For Ourselves.
Do you Can you Sit down in silence? Can you Do you Have the patience to comprehend? Do you Can you exist when you aren’t performing? Can you Do you Know who you are even when your mouth is shut? Can you do you? Do you. Can you? -Akotowaa
I often think of knowledge as Rapunzel, of college as the impenetrable tower, and of myself as the lovestruck outsider, begging her to let down her spines. Each time I meet the Board of Wizards that keep her in captivity, They tell me that she must be fiercely guarded Then, that they believe strongly in… Continue reading College Libraries.
After the excessive drama, the screaming, crying and the mess of the all-night, after the echoes of the tongues of prayer so loud that they left your ears ringing for hours, after all this, you are alone. The buzz has worn off. Your life returns to the regular, the last embers of fireworks in your… Continue reading The Problem With Miracles