Kiraa

is there such a thing as too honest?

This short story was written my freshman year on a weekday very late in the night. I recently found it in a box of old papers. It was entitled Chapter One. I wonder where the rest would have taken us.

The world is too heavy to walk without love.

“That’s not the body of a thirteen year old” he said in between pues

this is winter in kingston and this is how we talk

​​​​​​​after the poem “Die Family” by William Virgil Davis

always on the move

grievance update: healing from dead mom