In Which I Am Never Going Home

Every time is the same:


I am a child

Or am this woman now,

And I am naked

Or I am fully clothed,

And the car is driving itself

without me.


I am in the back seat,

I am crying in the back seat

Which is to say I am watching the house disappear

through the windshield,


Which is to say the roads are ice

And the car is swerving aimless

And I am awkward

in the passenger seat,

Limpleggedly trying to find the pedals.

Wet faced and terrified.

Red faced and complacent.


Every time it is the same

And I cannot seem to find

The steering wheel,

Or the road map,

Or why I am always being driven away.


poetry poem life draft



Dominique Christina - “For Emmett Till” (WoWPS 2014)

"In this photo, he’s laughing. And there is no cotton gin tied around his waist. He’s not stretched into swollen limbs. His eyes are still hazel, and recognizable. Two neat white rows of perfect teeth sit totem-like in his mouth. And the world did not know him because he had not been murdered yet."

Women of the World Poetry Slam champion, in 2014 AND 2012. So excited to have our first video of her up.

Just like that.


Unfriendly reminder that in America it’s reasonable to say an unarmed black kid deserved to be shot six times because he might have robbed a convenience store, but a white kid shouldn’t be kicked off the high school football team just because he violently raped a girl.

(via emilymphocyte)

"Your mother did not raise you with a wolf in your chest so you could howl over losing a man."
- read this on here today and i haven’t stopped thinking about this quote since (via hairspr4y)

(Source: pluiedem, via imjustthelosingkind)


By Takashi Kuribayashi, installed at the Sapporo Art Museum in Japan this expansive installation made from Japanese washi paper allows the viewers to walk beneath the vast white forest and pop up through holes to see the landscape above. Aiming to help the audience consider their relationship to the landscape. 

(Source:, via satyr-song)