Poetry
Poetry
child marriage
Her books all snatched away, with her dreams all burnt down.
Tell me we are the same
Take my story out of history books. / Teach me my place is to be quiet.
I Ran
As I got older, the lack of representation began to fester
Tea Before Dawn
Tea gone in the sink, tea leaves scattered on the stove.
THE DREAM
I turned my back to the crossroads to face you, to see you, to feel you. / I sit by the pond, barefoot. Flowers are crowning my feet, and my gaze coating you.
Modern Bazaar
We have no bazzar to turn to so we must create it / Because if not the majority will take our culture and claim that fast fashion made it