The sun set on a silent Sunday. The orange in the sky stayed a little longer today while I cried a river in his arms. The cry of a mourning person. The loud exhale and bottomless sea of tears. Puffy eyes. Snotty nose. Warmth and heat. He embraced me in his arms so tightly, clutching at my hand and I could have sworn he was crying too. We laid there within each other, both grieving in loud silence and knowing that this was an embrace that neither of us wanted to end. It told o

Grief doesn't have a timer. It is processed in both minutes and months; transcending through the crevices of time and life itself. There...

It has been almost been four years since I last published one of my writings on this platform and in that time, I had the trivial...

This early morning, I sat beside my auntie in palliative care and watched as her short life came to a swift end. She was only thirty-five...

Although I have always considered creativity to be rooted in my life, I’ve admittedly been finding it more and more difficult to...

I was recently sitting with one of my best friends contemplating what I should write about in my next blogpost. As we bounced ideas back...

I have always envied the people who seemed to habitually live their lives in a way that I only did when I was going through phases of an...

Although 2020 cancelled my birthday (and literally everything else) last year, it seems that I’m still obligated to skip ahead and...

I was confronted with the fragility of losing a loved one today when I saw a post on Instagram about a 21 year old man who committed...

2020 has driven us into a realm of ambiguity; a dark room with no walls, no corners and no exit sign leading us back to the comfort of...

This past week has challenged the nation and shone a blinding mirror into the eyes of racism, police brutality and oppression. In light...