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hey guys, it's ya girl, silver, back at it again...

Published Work

assorted fragments

if we keep
esc al a t  i n g
how will we ever reach the end?
the weight of a thought
is infinite.
every revolutionary idea,
every unforeseen change,
every new invention,
was a  thought
decades from now, 
we’ll find you again,
a shell,
a skeleton,
a framework for the future.
i am but a mere puppet
voiceless and motionless
controlled by the threads of fate
and the whims of time.
is it universal? to
stand, watch, wait
when someone is leaving you?
wave and wave and wave
until their tail lights are nothing more than the imprints under your eyelids,
until the warmth of their hands in yours becomes just a cold absence,
until the only record of them ever coming is memory and footprints,
until you want nothing more than for them to
come back?
who will let her scream? who
will hear her?
if a tree falls in a...


a journey backwards

    Tirunelveli is a minor, relatively well-known city in southern India. It’s famous for many things: iruttukadai halwa, temples, and rivers, to name a few. It’s less well known for being an absolute nightmare to navigate.

    Take a guess as to where my family ended up last summer.

    In Tirunelveli’s defense, however, we were relying on dated memories and facts. After years of never once reconnecting with our past, my maternal family decided to visit my grandmother’s ancestral home in a village just outside Tirunelveli. Our trip around Tamil Nadu was a homecoming, a way to rediscover what we had always known. 

    So we were lost in the labyrinth of dirt roads, stranded without service. A metaphor for self-discovery? Maybe. But we were really just lost.

    We’ve just finished a massive meal at an Ashok Bhavan in Tirunelveli when my grandmother expresses a stray desire to visit her hometown again. Her request is barely audible at first, drowned out...

Zoom Out

in and out

click. hands, wrinkled with time and skill. blunt, broken nails from too much creation and too much destruction. there is a hidden universe in every crease of her hand and magic in every crevice of her home. perpetually curved-spine, body arched forward. a strange conviction in those milky eyes.

click. house too big for one person. always slightly cluttered, slightly too crowded despite its emptiness. shrines of miscellaneous objects for the ordinary- a pile of remotes in front of the television, pens stacked untouched in front of a yellowing notebook, a broom and a dustpan laid out beneath a windowsill of houseplants.

click. a web of dirt roads leading to a singular fate. always cloudy, always wet and muddy and sticky, and yet never raining. too many trees and somehow even more tree stumps. triplets of mushroom children choking out the flowers, dandelion persistence for the masses.

click. abandoned town abandoned home abandoned woman. fate and the rule...

thoughts and prayers

there are people dying!

what was that? sorry,
can't hear you over
the bribes i'm being given by the nra.


what? sorry,
here's a flag at half staff
and some thoughts and prayers.

no? we need to make sure that
people can't be killed
in mass shootings anymore! there are kids dying

we should give teachers guns. should
train more people to hurt
more people.

how are you
going to give teachers guns
if the taxes you're collecting
can't even pay for glue sticks?

america is great! the second amendment
means you can't take away our guns! stop
trying to take away our rights!

why do you need assault style rifles? semi-automatic
weapons are not
SHOULD not be necessary for 

it is bad PEOPLE that cause these shootings. why
do you blame the guns? just prevent mentally ill 
people from purchasing guns!

a bad person does much less damage with a knife, i ...

(maybe i am the villain.)

you villainize me, 
without realizing that
the villains

i’ll get tired of pretending
to play this game

i’m going to stand up,
flip over the whole damn board,

take the painted coins and colored money
with you, coward. take your dice and pawns.

i don’t need them where i’m going.

our children

we create our children,
from metal and plastic and hard work and calculations,
breathe knowledge and life and love into them
name them endeavour, curiosity, opportunity
after all the things we wish them to embody.

we take care of them, 
nurture them,
raise them,
into functioning, thinking, healing,
then send them off
with our best wishes and our farewells-
off into deep nothingness.

they do everything we wished 
we could have done ourselves
after all, we created them,
projected ourselves onto them
showed them our deepest hopes and desires
and they fulfill them-

they wake up,
go to sleep.

they find rocks and dust,
they find water,
they find traces of life.

they sing happy birthday to themselves.

they celebrate and show sadness and happiness and fear like the rest of us.

and when they fall asleep, 
turn off and never turn on again,
we write them obituaries and give them funerals,
cry over them as if they were...

i'm sorry.

i’m sorry, you 
too many words flow out
of me, too fast
for me too contain. a
chemical reaction waiting to

i’m sorry, for
the words that
worse than any blade, for
the volcanic anger that
out before i give it a second
thought, for
the hurt that 
in my heart.

parasitic, infectious, destructive.
i’m sorry.

your mistakes

i hate
how you make me feel like
n o t h i n g
and then play it off
as a joke.

am i a joke to you?
am i just another person,
in another day?
am i even worth a second thought?

i understand.
the ignorant always
suffer, even when the flames lick
at their feet, even
when their mistakes slap
them in the face.
does it hurt yet? don’t worry,
it will. you will be
your own downfall.

mistake number one:
thinking i was
      too weak to stand.

mistake number two:
thinking i was
      too easy to push over.

mistake number three:
believing i was
      too docile to snap.

you can’t ignore me away anymore.

an ode to me

beautiful, ephemeral
constantly changing.
a myriad of personalities
in one body. i am a puzzle assembled
from the pieces of a thousand others. why
should i restrict
to what you give me? i am
a cat with infinite
lives, infinite
choices. i am no longer
into place by 
conformity and uniformity. i flee
into the comforting arms of


i stare at the ceiling.
the ceiling stares back,
the fan clanks and whirrs in the background,
begging to be included
in our silent conversation.
the palm trees whisper
in the rush of dry santa ana winds
fragments of their conversation
floating out through their feathery fronds,
and in through the mosquito netting
of my open windows.
the polyester beneath my check is 
hot, itchy. my blanket is 
discarded, a heap of fabric abandoned
to the floor. i flip over my
pillow, i flip over my self. 
the air is still and heavy with dreams,
but none of them belong to me. 
even the stars lay dormant
beneath their blankets of smog and street lights.
the jacarandas titter at my sleepless state
from behind bowing branches of blossoms.
and so, i relinquish wishes of sleep, watching.
what comes out of hiding, once the
sun has fled? the wind whispers of cooler days,
the grass longs for long-gone rain, the...


and white.
a simple binary,
a duality that is 
as restrictive as it is easy. as
as it is soothing. conformity,
uniformity. why should
we settle for one or the other
when there’s a whole
to choose from? why must we
enforce the barriers that restrict us, enforce our own
prison? why
should we take your brutality lying
down? we will not.
will not
let you trod on us, like
we are less than you, like
we are meant for nothing more. we will throw
the first brick. we will rise up,
fists raised and banners
flying, dirtied and bloodied and tired and
fighting, goddammit, because
we were meant for more than the ridicule and mockery
that surrounds us. we were meant for success,
for love,
for pride.

for greater things.

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2019


all you’ve ever done is doubt me
repeatedly, repeatedly,
as predictable as the tide rolling in
am i supposed to believe you? your sad, 
overused lies echo in my head,
so predictable i could lipsync to your falsehoods

was i supposed to ignore
all you’ve done for me? the
shattering, brokenness
replays in my head,
a sad playlist stuck on loop

maybe the only thing you ever did
was show me that sensitivity wasn’t all
that the picture books made it out to be, wasn’t all
that the movies showed, wasn’t all
that the happily-ever-after fairy tales told me.

and you come to me again, begging my forgiveness
as soon as you need it, as soon as you can use me,
how many lies have you told me? have you rejoiced in?
no, kneel there, become another myth-
one that lied, cried, turned to stone,
one that deserved what came to them.

Paint Swatch


the color of wishes and wonder
silvery-blue and lavender light
like mist, ethereal and untouchable
But: only dreamers can see it,
the ones "naive" in society's eyes
Wish curls, in swirls, off of every wish made, it is 
made of stardust and hope and stuck firmly in minds of 
everyone, because we were all believers once, 
so maybe we can finally,
hope without fear

Paint Swatch


the color of wishes and wonder
silvery-blue and lavender light
like mist, ethereal and untouchable
But: only dreamers can see it,
the ones "naive" in society's eyes
Wish curls, in swirls, off of every wish made, it is 
made of stardust and hope and stuck firmly in minds of 
everyone, because we were all believers once, 
so maybe we can finally,
hope wihtout fear

Improbable Flavor

the taste of darkness

the taste of defeat
dark crimson
like a bitten tongue
and blood that lingers for 
too long, too
long in your mouth
mingling with hope fallen
and festering anger
bruised purple and inky, smoky black
difficult to swallow
and difficult to hide
even sweet honey
bitters after too long,
an unwanted memory,
when there isn't enough 
for it to stay forever

a heart for words

she was still new to the world
big eyes and a big heart
and already understood that no one cared
so she did the caring for them

everyone's words slid out smoothly,
water on oil,
but hers stuck together, like glue,
without a question,
so she stuttered out her kind words,
even though they ignored the words
and remembered the halting, quiet voice 

but they took, and took, and took
and never gave back
and so her heart,
that wide open door,
closed, slowly,
like the glue that once shut her mouth

she traded one for the other
a heart for words
words for a heart
and stuck like glue
to what everyone else said
and not to what her heart once knew

25 Words


she was walking, 
then she flew
the clouds were below her
and the sun above
she was flying,
so high,
then she wasn't 
she fell

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2018


i want to fly back
i'm trapped in the future i wove for myself
forever dialing to a number
that doesn't exist

they said everything
i should have never listened

i crumble
just a little
they say they mean it

can you get ready
for something
you never should have to

it hurts most
when they pretend
with warm hands
and a cold heart
and a mask over their emotions

the visible
you can ignore.
but with actors
you realize
much too late
that they are

i heard things
things i wish
i had not heard
my stomach sinks
my eyes sting
but i must not
show that
i care

i could be dancing on stars
but i'd still be alone
(they pretended they couldn't see)
the moon among clouds
but not nearly as bright
(but they always did)

in a world of maybes
i know two things:
you can be surrounded...

The Unknown

so much

i don't know a lot
i don't know the small things-
why the sky is blue, why we feel pain
why i can't run faster than that kid over there

but i don't know the things i wish i did-
why i'm annoying when she's endearing
why i care too much
why i only ever feel alone

so much i want to learn,
but so little learnable



dialing... not available
she cried, and they watched, motionless.
cold eyes and a colder heart were all that remained.
i'm waiting for my forever
they said no, and i cared too much
bright lights, bright eyes, dark past, dark future
he smiled, golden, but nothing was perfect
i've flown too far to drown now
she waited for something i was never going to say

“In January”


in january, 
she had promised
what seemed like the easiest things
and yet, they vanished
in a 
as soon as it came

Op-Ed Competition 2018

Social Media's Effects on Teens

Nearly 2.5 billion people used social media in 2017, and it has its own effect on every user. Our world has been dramatically affected by the creation of social media. Social media, also called social networking, has been a cause of debate for years due to the mixed effects it has on teenagers. Many believe it to be a negative influence on young minds, and argue that it causes mental health issues, sleep deprivation, and decreased productivity. On the other hand, supporters say that it expands the knowledge of users, develops skills such as leadership and empathy, and help reinforce relationships. Social media, when used with care and in moderation, can have beneficial effects such as strengthening friendships and enabling youth to engage in activities that positively affect their community.

Social media can be used as a platform to implement positive changes in one’s community. Even teens, who have a reputation of being addicted to social media, use it as...

Friendship Tweet


Maybe friendship is a braid- one strand pulled out means everything else falls apart
Maybe friendship is an anchor- the one place where life doesn't make sense and you're okay with it
Maybe friendship is the rain- necessary but not always welcome
Maybe friendship is the sound of a plucked string- there and then not, all at once



​Each purposeful step she took was synchrony with the pounding beat of her music. Dark and bold, she was a streak of fierce color against the uniformity of her surroundings. I can do it this time. Her black combat boots stride down the hall, in contrast with the sterile white of the tiling.
She approaches the end of the hallway, and each step hesitates. She seems to be pulling against herself, struggling to not hide again. The door is ready to open, and yet it stops her. All her confidence is wrung out of her, and she slumps. The boots rock back and forth. Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe.
She hesitates before shuffling back down the still-quiet hall, into her room. She comes out again, except no longer bold. Hidden in the washed out pastels instead of the color she wants. She shuffles to the door, letting everyone see the person they know and not the person she is.
She shows herself...

Love in 13 Words


Love is our maybe, our flashlight, when we are hiding in the shadows.

Monster Flash Fiction Competition 2018

We Are Our Monsters

Red-rimmed eyes, red face, red hands.
Black eyes, black hair, black heart.
Pale ground, pale sky, pale water.
These were nothing, they said. And they meant everything to someone who had been blinded by tyranny.

I was the monster here, and no one was going to take that away.

I have the power.
And around me, the world burned, crashing to its feet in awe of my terror. No longer would I submit to its wills.

I am the ruler here. 

And yet was ever just them who had torn me down? Wasn't it me, too, shredding myself away until I wasn't anything but monstrous?

It didn't matter then, it won't matter later.
No one will stop me.



we were all free once
we were all children
and nothing more
we constructed ourselves from stardust and dreams
hoping for now
instead of waiting for never
tangled hair
and muddy toes
flower crowns transformed us into something
no one else could see