My Journey
From Brooklyn, NY to Southeast Asia
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Tears

Why do you ask if you don’t want to know? How can I answer when no one is listening? I hide in plain sight. Everyone can see. Stop it. Grow up. I wish that I can. I try. Over and over, and over again. I’m fifteen, and for the first time, I get to cry… Continue reading
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Just Start

I wrote my first poem as a first grader. It was terrible. Everybody loved it. I loved it too. Finally, a thing I was good at. My first poems were full of happy little rhymes, carefully constructed sentences, and complete nonsense. I wrote what I thought a poem was supposed to be. Continue reading


