Lit Poetry

i. Sunlight reflecting off the shattered glass on the boy’s blue duvet blindingly attacks pale walls where laughter once resonated between. ii. A broken trophy case tasting more...

In the midst of long distance and confessionals with the moon, (to my heart) a star asks: “when did you stop believing in yourself?”        

Sleepless nights, and stoplights, and sunburned exhaustion. You make me want to wake up, even when I’m so tired I can’t see straight. My heart broke...

fairy lights and books surround me a comforting darkness a sanctuary for my thoughts, awful singing and sketches clothes on the floor music in the background words on pages trying to...

I have started to write this poem too many times. I have never finished it. I peel a clementine, pull it into segments, savor its clean crisp citrus. It wasn’t...

I would love to speak, .............For the ones with no voice. I would love to fly, .............Dance ballet through the open air, And I would love to be...

It didn’t stop the cold aching, slithering, curling its way around my arms, squeezing to expose a vain, to show that I was still living....

Right now, I know, having been where you are, grief is your largest organ. Every centimeter from your scalp to your toes feels scalded, disfigured for life. But I hope...

On the night when the pale Moon with its roundness appeared outside my window, I regarded it carefully. Like it was a leech feeding on my thoughts. The knife that I had...

Are galaxies living beings? Do they move slowly like sea slugs, oceans of stars clumped together in soft airy mists? Do planets dance with one another,...