Poetry

it starts with a star. 

good thing I know how to be alone
so many people don’t 

A house divided cannot stand; / I grew up in a house divided.

It is an odd grief, missing something bound to return 

What is legacy? / What someone leaves behind; / Difficult to vocalize / it is often unseen, / Unheard, / or even unknown.

I’m standing at the intersection of identity / Each piece of me yielding for another / But sometimes there’s a collision 

Stay here. Take a walk and watch / our steps fall into synchrony like an old dance / we used to know better than our own names.

I walk downstairs and you are not there.

when sunlight hits foggy glass just right

prints reveal themselves, oil smeared into smiling faces

My body, mind, and soul are a solar system

Made up of hundreds of moons, millions of asteroids, and a multitude of planets

The depth of my composition largely unexplored