Everyone’s chest is a living room wall with awkwardly placed photographs hiding fist-shaped holes.

Hey, are you a boy or a — never mind, can I have a push on the swing?” And some day, y’all, when we grow up, it’s all gonna be that simple.

The trauma said, ‘Don’t write these poems. Nobody wants to hear you cry about the grief inside your bones.

Yesterday i carved your name into the surface of an ice cube then held it against my chest til it melted into my aching pores today i cried so hard the neighbors knocked on my door and asked if I wanted to borrow some sugar.

You keep worrying you’re taking up too much space. I wish you’d let yourself be the milky way.

Love is like sunshine. Sometimes you have to get burned to know you were there. I want to know that I'm here.

You are not weak just because your heart feels so empty.