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We all used to be afraid of owning up to our mistakes. Always finding new excuses to dodge accusations, always shrugging our shoulders when a finger w..
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The Bad Kids were the ones your mother warned you about. The kids with messy hair and dirty fingernails as well as thoughts. The ones that rode their ..
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I am a girl.I am supposed to beweak, vulnerable andpractically perfect.What if I want to bestrong? What if I wantto be outspoken? Arethose adjectives ..
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This is my hair.This is my soul.Can you see the difference?My skin colour does not define me,nor does my hair.Whether it is in braidsor in its natural..
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This one's for all the women that are being taken advantage of by men.The mothers who are struggling each day to feed their children.Wondering when th..
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As kids, we would ride our bikes down the Parisian roadside, looking on as people passed us by. Beautiful women in polka-dotted dresses, men in fine t..
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The boys point at her, pulling at her headscarf. She sits quietly, with her hands folded in her lap.The people look at her with bewildered eyes, but s..
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The moon knows all my secrets.She watches me as I sleep.I cry to her in the darkness,when my sadness becomes deep.She shines her light upon me, so I k..
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I'll never forget the day you stopped speaking.It has remained in my memory for as long as I can remember.You were bawling because your throat ached.Y..
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I am sad because I can no longer see you.Before the illness came, you were the happiest man I knew.You smiled and danced every nightuntil the day came..
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