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From Book Nerd to Gym Girlie
I was an asthmatic child, prone to wheezing and walking instead of running laps around the gymnasium during P.E.
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Intense Emotions
being abandoned feels like mourning a death
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Why Does Poetry Matter?
Our eyes see it. Our brain longs for it. For a connection.
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Her Skirt (a trio of vignettes)
A bit of pink. A bit of tulle. A bit of floof. I grab the fabric as it poofs up from the yellow cover of the bouncy bed.
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Sunlight and Trees
Birds and I sing together, I dance with grass – I climb the trees.
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The Flip Side
If only you saw the flipside The other side of the me that you see.
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Study For My Dream
Morpheus always shows me the same thing when I go with him. Just a window.
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At Ease
At six months old I started to pick out my own clothes. My face would light up when my mom opened my closet for me. She would hold me up…
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Treading History
The darkest days of history begin not with pestilence and paper-burning
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Collection of Sijo Poetry
Sijo is a Korean traditional form of poetry. Sijo is written in three lines, each with four groups of 1-5 syllables with a total of 14-16 syllables per line.
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Demystifying networking in undergrad: a failure and a success
When I heard the term “networking” growing up, it conjured images of men in suits playing pool in a cigar smoke-filled back room of a dingy bar.
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Metamorphosis
Can you hear the crisp pull of skin peeling off my lips? My eyelids? My wrist?
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Planet 9 Records, Richmond
One of my favorite subjects to explore in my art, especially in photography, is human beings.
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Mississippi Yearning
you are a veiny thing gossamer serpent stretching its neck from stem to stern
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The Fault of the Moon
Just as the ocean’s tides recede, the waves always come back to feed.
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Synesthesia
The scent of smoke burns my skin. All I can smell are the flames burning before me.
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HISD Open Door Policy (from the perspective of a student)
The beginning of a new school year is always an adjustment: returning to a regular sleep schedule, forfeiting free time as homework piles up.
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I Miss You, Grandma
I miss you Grandma, I know I'm not supposed to start a letter like that, but I’m also not supposed to write to someone who is no longer with us.
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Double Double This This
Double mirrors and doorways— Double keys and hard drives—
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Penelope
I stitch my shroud, in quiet contemplation It is time that I race against, leaving rough edges I never hope to finish.
