Poetry

Imposter Syndrome
Away from home with imposter syndrome
Fading far from the plight of perfectionism
Taunted by the unexplored, not on any exec boards
Sometimes struggling to just get out of bed
My roommate wakes up and runs ten miles
While I have clothes heaped in piles
And a hundred unorganized files on my desktop
Too anxious to answer an email
In constant comparison and competition
I’m not motivated by grades or majors
Student governance or unpaid labor
But paranoid I need to fit in

good enough ii
two cultured,
my mind cluttered,
i struggle,
attempt to juggle.
Матрёшка
There are twenty-one of me
inside of me
One for each year of life
on this Earth

Good When We Die
You are not carried downstream by a river
But the ocean rocks you back and forth

The Root of My Mother
My mother was born with a green ribbon wrapped around her left thumb

Water and Rocks
I stumble through life like a dehydration-addled ascetic in a desert during the apocalypse

Budding Rose
In the quiet nights of winter
The air sighs with an icy chill

Seven People You Already Know
Monday grips a pen
Neurotic scribbles fill a blank page

Queer Utopia
You just are, no need to play a part
Names and Pronouns and Sexuality
Can change as easily as the seasons
It is accepted and no less normal