Tag: identity

  • Nine Voices: A Connected Journey

    Nine Voices: A Connected Journey

    In Nine Voices: A Connected Journey, poetic voices converge to explore the fluidity of identity, the beauty of listening, and the silent power of memory. From a baker’s quiet rituals to the dusty echoes of a forgotten trunk, this reflective cycle moves through grief, growth, and the sacred rhythm of becoming. Each piece is a…

  • If You Had to Change Your Name, What Would Your New Name Be?

    If You Had to Change Your Name, What Would Your New Name Be?

    What is a name but a thread through time? If I had to change mine, I would seek not a label— but a mirror reflecting the truest me.

  • We Do Not ‘End’. We Become.

    We Do Not ‘End’. We Become.

    In this meditative poem, the soul journeys beyond finality into infinite change — from ashes to oceans, from endings to essence.

  • Left Turn

    Left Turn

    At the intersection, I could go right and head home— but turning left would take me into a story that didn’t want to be safe, into a version of me not yet born. I turned left— and everything familiar dissolved into wonder.

  • What Are You Good At?A Confession in Light and Dark

    What Are You Good At?A Confession in Light and Dark

    I am good at surviving what no one ever admits they lived through. At carrying hunger that howls in libraries. At becoming myth in my own bloodline— not disappearing, but dissolving, like ink becoming memory in water.

  • Where the Voice Forgot Its Name

    Where the Voice Forgot Its Name

    Because names peeled off doorbells like old skin, While the moon grew restless in your tea, Though your shoes never forgave you, Even then, the echo asked for ID. And something—finally—named itself: belonging.

  • I Am the Sacrifice: A Confession in Two Parts

    I Am the Sacrifice: A Confession in Two Parts

    In this two-part poetic odyssey, I unravel the raw, unspeakable confessions of sacrifice—first as a lived truth, then as the metaphor I have become. Every stanza breathes the cost of becoming everything for everyone, while quietly losing pieces of myself. This is not surrender—it is survival, told in rhythm and rupture.

  • Threadbare Truths: What’s the Oldest Thing I’m Wearing Today?

    Threadbare Truths: What’s the Oldest Thing I’m Wearing Today?

    What if the oldest thing I’m wearing isn’t fabric or metal, but the mole on my neck, the laugh that cracked at sixteen, or the thread that remembers a forgotten promise? This is not just a poem—it’s a slow unraveling of what clings to the skin, and what refuses to fade. Dive into a tapestry…

  • The Room Where All Meet #poetry

    The Room Where All Meet #poetry

    You were never just one person. You were possibility. You were the metaphor that never needed explanation. And we—me, her, him, they, you— we became the unfinished sentence you whispered into our ribs.

  • Labels on My Tongue, Logos in My Dreams #poetry

    Labels on My Tongue, Logos in My Dreams #poetry

    A lyrical journey through memory, identity, and consumerism—this poem dissects our intimate relationship with brands, where love smells like Nivea, dreams buffer through Apple, and nostalgia is bottled by Paper Boat. What do we consume, and what consumes us?