we playin catch. — a poem — we playin catch. everybody toss the ball. sis toss the ball. sis toss four at once. sis watch me get hit by three. the ball i catch burn my hands. but i don’t drop it. sis laugh and laugh. and i can’t toss it back. my hands just grip for dear life. sis smell my flesh and sis ain’t stop laughing. everybody…

As told by a nonbinary kid. — As a young nonbinary adult who’s been out of the closet for more than a year, I’m comfortable with who I am, and my mom is as well. …

Because everyone could stand to learn a thing or two. — So…bottom growth. That’s a thing. It’s one of the earliest changes for individuals assigned female at birth who begin taking T. And it’s an absolutely wild ride. A rollercoaster ride that isn’t adequately talked about before most people enter the theme park, so I’m happy to share my two cents. …

A Disney coming of age short story. — I’ve nailed it this time. I know it. The buttered yellows fading into the tangerine orange petals on my dress, the placement of the oversized sunflower seed, the faux daylily headband sitting atop my hazel afro puff, the little yellow flats I found at Justice, and the dark green yarn…

The Pevensies’ ain’t got nothing on Classy and Jaden. — “I knew you’d come”. I did not think he would come. I let my brother into our childhood home and give him a once over. A mossy sweater-vest paired with a crisp white button down, black straight-cut slacks, and the academic’s standard horn-rimmed glasses. He looks like an asshole. …

short fiction — Here’s what I know for sure: it was an accident. I left class sobbing, as one is wont to do after being publicly, soullessly outed by his P.E. teacher. I changed out of my cobalt blue gym shorts and my white t-shirt that both had ‘Shaun T.’ printed on them…

names. — the short answer is no, but you came here to read a poem, so read on. the name dropped off the face of the earth two years, seven months, and twenty four days ago. the name landed somewhere i couldn’t see. maybe it was right behind me. my mom saw…

Processing: we didn’t know what else to say. — Acrid steps off the plane expecting to see our mom. Our approach to staying alive has always been collaborative. We rub our sweaty palms together and watch the tarmac slowly empty out. …

A letter to a year from now. — Ya know, I wasn’t expecting this. When I began college in the fall of 2019, I attended my university’s matriculation, as is customary. I sat there on the quad in my flowy white jumpsuit with my frosted tips pixie cut and my newfound friend group, and listened to then-president Dalit*…