I wrote this poem as a critique of certain political parties that espouse pro-life policies for “life” in the womb but won’t lift a finger to enact laws to help children once they’re actually born (anti-gun legislation, free healthcare and school lunches, etc.). They regard children as disposable fodder.

CW: intent to harm an animal. Writing this piece felt like a hard look in the mirror. I wanted to be honest and vulnerable about feeling helpless, about the true cost of being a bystander. So, I anchored those ideas to the time in all of our lives when we have almost no agency or […]

Money rituals are inhumane practices carried out by different traditional religions in Nigeria. They, unfortunately, contribute to and are influenced by the kidnapping problem in the country.

In many ways, this poem is about an excruciatingly difficult childhood, but it is also about my found family, about the people who have helped me realize that the past is something you can leave behind, that you can exorcise, put away because there are better things to do than stay haunted by the dark.

I wanted to paint an eerie portrait of the Brooklyn Bridge area as I first experienced it, capturing both a feeling of wonder and unease, for any place with enough character and history can feel like it has an undercurrent of old magic that may ensnare you.

This piece comes from a childhood of taking piano lessons. I switched to other instruments after high school, but I still remember how to read sheet music.