A poem about the will to live.
A poem about schooling.
I have been reading Fatimah Asghar’s If They Come for Us in honor of AAPI Heritage Month.
Children work steps with parents, too. They didn’t cause it. They can’t control it. May they have serenity as well.
Last week I was tired angry tired exhausted angry sad inconsolable grieving tired tired tired angry anger. Last week, last year, last night. It doesn’t matter. Tired. Angry. And somehow still optimistic. Freedom isn’t off the table.
A thank you to all the aunties – through the transitions, ups and downs, we love you.
Faster, faster Bo faster! Gotta kep up That girl gonna run us ragged Gotta kep up So pretty […]
Journey Wading through the water, her toe kicked the jagged rocks nestled in its bed. She looked down […]
A love doomed to fail.