I Wrote This Instead of Screaming

  • Roses for the Grave

    Flowers on the floor, sequins in the stream. They sell the drowning girl as everybody’s dream.The velvet curtains draw, tragedy rehearsed. Pretty when she’s silent, perfect when it hurts. Turn the tragedy to treasure.Make my breakdown glitter gold.Clap for beauty in the wreckage. Watch me shatter, strike a pose. Curtains fall in velvet, cameras catch…

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  • You Mistook a Mirror for a Molotov

    You call us thugs for marching straight,but cheered the mob that breached the gate. We raised our signs – they brought the noose.You said we riot – then turned them loose. We chanted names, you choked on facts. They carved their flags into the Capitol’s back.You banned our books, claimed moral high ground,while your “patriots”…

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  • Only Free if You Agree

    They etched it deep in marble,polished the lie with pride.But freedom’s just a fairytalewhen truth gets crucified.They said the tongue is sovereign,but only if you kneel.They said speak your mind,then taught us how to sealour throats with fear,our mouths with thread—say it wrong,and end up dead.They call it liberty—while torching what we write.Call it harmless—as…

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  • Poison in the Honey

    You leaned in close, I couldn’t breathe, golden words dripping over me. You dragged me closer, I couldn’t resist, I needed more with every hit. Your sugar burned, it made me blind, I lost control, I crossed the line. Every red flag faded to black,and I was never coming back. Sweetness pulled me under, sugar…

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  • Vultures

    They lit candlesfor a man who played with matches. Called him a martyr for a fire he stoked. Grieved him like a prophet -as if his tonguewas not slick with gasoline. And the others laughed, relieved karma had chosen right. Cheeredlike blood was a punchline. Danced on his gravewith the same dead eyeshe once usedto…

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  • Hope is the Most Dangerous Thing I Have

    I have a talent for graves. I can make a peace with any silence. Trace the contours of what’s gonelike I was born knowing loss. I’ve watched the light bleed out. Felt it drain until there was nothing left. And still -the spark. Small. Obnoxious. Persistent. A parasite with perfect timing. It crawls back into…

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