salt.

by Nayyirah Waheed

even the small poems mean something. they are often whales in the bodies of tiny fish.

if i write what you may feel but cannot say. it does not make me a poet. it makes me a bridge. and i am humbled and i am grateful to assist your heart in speaking. – grateful

i don’t pay attention to the world ending. it has ended for me many times and began again in the morning.