I Wrote This Instead of Screaming

hope

  • Still I Wake Up

    I know the headlines by heart—doom in bold, blood in italics.The oceans are rising,the rights are receding,and the scroll is endless.They say it’s selfishto want a quiet lifewhile the world is burning.But I’m done performing grief,done screaming my lungs rawfor a system riggedbefore I could read.Tired of giving namesto every kind of broken.But still, I

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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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