I remember when we used to
Cup our hands like spoons
and weave our hair like weeds
Plant apple seeds in the backyard
and watch the supposed trees recede
Cloth the new action figurines
with our own...
As a self-obsessed, youthful child, I feared change like a Californian living on the San Andreas fault. I feared the adolescent force my parents warned me not to become: the unremitting power of the developing...
My dad has a hard time expressing his feelings and helping others with their feelings. So going to him when I’m feeling down is not a thing I usually do. However, one time, my dad came to me and seemed...
I've never viewed my experience with change as positive. Ever since I can remember, I've wanted things to stay a specific way, and when that way changes, sometimes I don't know where to turn. Whenever...
Praise the mutilated world.
The world for all its faults and scars is a beautiful place— it has to be, for it is all we have. What does it mean to be broken, or wrecked? Nothing is perfect, untouched,...