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to be vulnerable to bleed on their carpet to weep over a memory to shed the memory where you stand to struggle loudly with the straps and clasps and heaviness of things to double park your pain next to their annoyed and honking urgencies to leave behind in the middle of the sidewalk something everyone…
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Here is a picture of me that is not smothered in insta-filters not contrived according to my “best angle.” Here is the first picture of me that didn’t fear what the unkind light findsor exposes. Here I am, tired of posing tired of the toxicity of my own shame for my own skin my own…
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Here, we alchemize our pauses and stop waiting for the right time to be to speak to put the load down to be vocal about the shitshow we’ve been existing under to own our fury Here, we mend the broken connections to ourselves, although the timeis short and the steps are unclear, we have…
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The life of a neurodivergent is a painting on a canvas of gaslighting “normal” makes little sense and takes way too many steps there is too much explaining and apologizing and it has to be in their language come from their point of view using reasons that matter to them and if they decide to…
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My child is little but he has very big feelings disappointments big as clouds confusion by the truckloads frustrations towering like the bears at the zoo and fear, sometimes enough fear to flood a river and spoil the boats’ lunches I am constantly searching for this small child in the crowdeddowntown parade of his emotionsto…
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I want to make art that I believe in I’ve made enough fillers and PR I’ve shoveled enough cultural snow my muse has callouses on her hands I don’t want to live my whole life a purveyor of rounded corners and the easily palatable I want to create something with teeth that can make dents…
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I can’t afford my dreamsand I hate iteverything I hate about my life is caused by capitalism and the patriarchyno, I will not be taking any questionstake your sea lioning ass up out of hereand go sit with the other ass-kissers of the system but yes, I have divorced toxicityI’ve spent three hundred hours in…
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A hundred miles inlandaway from the waves you watched me drown in,you assume that I survivedwithout hearing the survival storyyou assumeI’m still breathing daysawakening to momentsturning pages like moonsbecause I am hereyou focus on the flesh you seeobedient to the patternyou do not see the hole where my spirit used to bedevouring me all the…
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Some nights I am granteda mind and body too tired for lying awaketoo tired for conjuring hypotheticalstoo tired for second guessing past life decisionstoo tired for doom scrolling and getting jealous of my college friends’ fancy shoes and travel pictures and I sleep and I am free but other nights I stare at the footboard…
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How cool that the people we know are our people are mirrors of the best parts of ourselves, voices from a world we still believe in, the poetry of the future we want to create.
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Rampant & Golden 