Prose/Poetry

A Fujifilm photo of my sister and I  lives on a bookshelf in our parents’ room when she and I were sitting on the couch… Read More »Blinded Eyes

The living room is the same.  The floor is messy.  Cotton and dust still spilling and spilling and spilling and spilling onto a burgundy rug. … Read More »aftermath

“I’m leaving.”  That was the last thought I had. I was sick. I was tired. I was exhausted from feeling unwelcome in a place where… Read More »leaving

Step one: find different papers of all different sizes. Step two: cut them, rip them however you like. Step three: get glue, and start working.… Read More »Collage

Sadaf. My name is Sadaf. My name is seashell. My name is on a beach. My name is lying buried in the sand. My name… Read More »My Name is Sad AF

“Noo,” she says with a whine that’s high and pitchy and scrapes at my nerves.  Staring down at my little sister who’s half my height… Read More »Parentification

A satirical piece about how the Western cosmetics industry and Eurocentric beauty standards frequently market any possible feature as insecurity that could be solved with product.

Hello everyone and welcome back! If you’re new around here, welcome. My name is Hannah and I enjoy long walks on the beach, sometimes crush caffeine tablets in my boba, and cry myself to sleep every night wondering about how my crow’s feet will look at my funeral and how it all went wrong.

TW: Death, Trauma, Domestic and White Terrorism, Mass Shooting.

Death is not a friend of mine

But is more like an acquaintance

Although I haven’t met him personally,

My father has.

It’s been 17 years since that day.

17 years and 25 days.

17 years and I am still grappling with the lasting effects of Death’s visit.

here are two words:

oppression (uh-presh-uhn): the state of being heavily affected by unjust rules and systems

and

competition (kom-pi-tish–uhn): rivalry; the act of striving to outdo another

words that sound so similar, yet are worlds apart

or rather

should be worlds apart