& what we share is the bark, the bones.
Paleontologists, from one fossilized femur,
Can dream up a species,
Make believe a body
Where there was none.
Our remnants are revelation,
Our requiem as raptus.
When we bend into dirt
We’re truth preserved
Without our skin.
In this truth, in this faith, we trust.
For while we have our eyes on the future,
History has its eyes on us.
Change is made of choices, & choices are made of character.
We might not be fully sure of all that we are. & yet we have endured all that we were.
The great responsibility I feel is to get people to put that power and that hope in themselves.
Poetry has never been the language of barriers, it’s always been the language of bridges.
I was writing since I can remember – I just didn’t know it was poetry yet, or that writing could be a career.
The oration of poetry, I consider to be its own art form and tradition.
Poetry and language are often at the heartbeat of movements for change.
Always remember that
What happened to us
Happened through us.
What’s really funny about being National Youth Poet Laureate is that not everyone even knows it exists.
Please.
Do not ask us who we are.
The hardest part of grief
Is giving it a name.
To love one another just may be the fight of our lives.
Our scars are the brightest parts of us.
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and then