Popular Articles
Her veil: blush, pearl-spotted.
Lashes: heavy (fake), coming undone.
The pale gap above her eye. Rani, half-past-nineteen.
I completely suck at self-care. And not in a cutesy, humblebrag way or in a self-deprecating way. We just do not get along.
“Arab women are a lot like coffee. strong. refreshing. Roasted until nearly burnt and then marketed as bitter. Expected to keep you going when you can’t do it yourself. Mis-used. Under appreciated.” (Yasmeen AlFaraj, University of California, Berkeley @_alfa_ya)
A (brief) introduction to the daily microaggressions faced by black people on campus
Surface Tension
Last night I dreamt we were married, our children sprinkled through the yard
I was in the middle of teaching one afternoon when a man died right outside my classroom door.
(Big-time Spoiler Alert -- if you don’t want to know the plot, don’t read this!)
1. Portrait of Adolescent America
I find America tucked away
inside the lines of my hand,
The vaginal dilators I had ordered, per the instructions of my physical therapist, arrived at my apartment in a perfectly normal-looking box, as if they weren’t sold by adamandeve.com, a site that has my eternal gratefulness for coming up as “unspecified merchant” on my bank account statement.
Poem to a Survivor
(for Paige, for Take Back the Night)
Even if you cannot imagine it now,
Please know that
an apology to my body
*Trigger Warning: content contains themes concerning disordered eating
i stare at you in the mirror and
my fingers creep down your edges
what once were curved like
rolling hills on the skyline are now
flat like razed earth and hard in places
i hadn’t felt before