Statement of Purpose

I arose from ash––from the culmination of violent love, custody documents, and broken traditions. In my small-town’s Indian community, I was told that I came from a broken home. A girl raised by her mother has no right to believe she’s granted any value if her father hasn’t done it first. I’d read about outcasts, family turmoil, and every epic adventure that happens for a kid who doesn’t belong. But never one like me.

Pandemic From California

August. The haze in the sky is thick, like a slate smog stretched thin over a blaring sun. It looks as if heat will rain. I can picture it: sizzling bolts of light touching down, the earth jittery from its touch. Some gnats collide into the glass of my window, as if they seek shelter with me.

Birthday Yellows

My mother says that when I was born, I was born yellow. No doctor could tell her what my gender would be, so she ignored the pinks and blues and bundled me in my first yellow cloth.

Go

You’re at an airport. You emerge from the metal detector. No sounds. No flags. No worries. Wrong. Your hands get “randomly selected” to be checked for bomb residue. Your skin is brown. Your eyes are wide. You’re 15 and your palms face the ceiling as a pale, overbearing stranger brushes your flesh with powder. With…

A Vision

It is in my heart to think how I may envision my own future. Should it be as vivid as my mind attempts to make reality now? I’m certain of what I want. I close my eyes and envision interwoven threads atop grass of a deep green. The sky is overcast, making everything clearer and…

Oxford

Recollection is like a sea of various shades washing on the dull gray sand of daily living. Nostalgia, or the concept of memories flooding one’s mind as they are triggered by trivial things––like cake crumbs, fine china, or even the musky scent of an old love’s cologne––is the sentimental impact of adventure come and gone…

Lost Boy

To the One that’s Lost, I hope life is treating you well. I hope its embrace feels tender, warm, and secure. I wish that its occasionally harsh grasp will not deter you from succeeding in all the ventures you’ve chosen. The ones I’m not allowed in. I do hope, with the purest ounces of my…

Starlight

The darkness does not scare me. My brokenness never will. Because when I look up to the black, I realize shattered glass still glimmers. Heat will rise in passion’s haste to feel what burns within. No matter the shadows I’ve embraced, I will always glow against that dark. That dark that coal cannot burn. That…

Crown

Wear that crown and wear it proudly. She doesn’t listen to my words because of the friction within her heart. What I wonder aloud, she wonders too; but what I declare she barely feels. Sometimes, her locks sweep past her shoulders–sometimes auburn, sometimes curled. When she cries, her cheeks get pink–a rosy hue the same…

Glimmer in the Ash

Those pools of brewed liquid would churn around pupils of the sweetest licorice. They’d shimmer in the most intoxicating moments, like a waft of steam was caught inside them. There was a depth to those eyes, so profound and savoringly bitter, that I had to remind myself to ingest them slowly. But the way they’d…