a poem — The words drip from your mouth like cinnamon roll glaze, so sweet it will rot your teeth, it takes all my willpower to not lick the sugared lies, to devour you whole. You said you’d take it all back, do things differently, for a fraction of a second, I believed you, but I remembered…

Would Knowing Your Murderer Change Your Behavior? — A literary concept known as Chekhov’s Gun states, If in Act One you have a pistol hanging on the wall, then it must fire in the last act. So I ask you this, would knowing your murderer change your behavior? If the gut is connected to the brain, why isn’t…

It’s 2 in the morning, and I’m stuffing chocolate in my mouth like I haven’t eaten for five days. I leave the lights off even though I live alone. If the lights see, I know they would whisper my secret to the world as if I’m not already tormented by…

A poem — I remember when, The future was just around the corner. Like pedaling down a hill The destination in plain view — within reach. Now it rests, Somewhere between the cumulous clouds, Out of focus. Blurry. Untouchable. I remember when, You used to squeeze my palms, A sign of reassurance, The permeation of wishful absolutes. Now you cringe, at the slightest touch. These…

A poem about expanding inwards — Apprehensive, she scanned her surroundings, certain that no one was looking, as if about to reveal a secret only she knew, she pulled out a protein bar from her bag, one of those balanced foods that claim to be a meal replacement full of the necessary nutrients, but most importantly, sufficient protein, with just the…

free verse — Some days, the words fly out of my head, as if my hand is no longer holding the pen, but the pen is kissing the paper. …

A short poem — he clipped my wings, replaced my memories with filtered depictions of his version of reality, told me it was all in the name of love. if you can’t remember an experience, does that mean it never happened? even in my lucid state, i felt entranced, drunkenly deceived, i confessed, someday, i’m going to marry you, a virtuous attempt to besiege…

a short poem — the deafening silence, unbearable, cranking the radio, drowning my thoughts, i sit here now, typing, click click click anything to not be consumed by my memories, or were they dreams? images of us, inescapable. i draw my attention to the swaying branches their leaves falling, like when you stumbled, amusingly charming. the clock strikes 4, tick tick tick even sleep…

I Am Not Depressed, but I Am Not Happy — I am languishing. I am not depressed, but I am not happy. I took my jacket to the dry cleaner today to feel like I did something. Did it need cleaning? No, not really. But if asked, what did you do today? I want to be able to respond with…

In Response to the Russo-Ukrainian War — how trivial it all seems, as I massage my face with a series of one too many skincare products, the radio in my living room plays the morning news, stories of how an ordinary warm Thursday one moment, instantaneously becomes horrific bloodshed the next, I thought this is what night terrors are for…

We Are All Fragmented Pieces — Inside each of us is an ocean of perverse thoughts, a craving for intimacy, not just the physical kind, conflicting emotions, aspirations, a story. We all carry scars and bruises, visible or not. Reminders of the times we have fallen and had to get back up. Some of us had…

a short poem — Be wary of people who speak in superlatives and vain mockery, perpetually raising their voice to cite one viral YouTube video, an article they read 5 years ago, tread lightly along the spectrum of skepticism, the world is stupefying. No one can point to a precise location in the brain and label…

an open letter to my dad — Hi Dad, It’s been a decade since you left. I’m starting to forget the shape of your face, how every hair on your eyebrows would stick up, the timbre of your laughter, your footsteps walking up the stairs to wake us up for school. I would put out every star…