Home Isnt A Place Its A Feeling
Its the smell of cookies on sundays and the annoyance of soccer cleats on the floor The soft sweet kisses before I turn the lights out and shut the door.
Dancing Through The Darkness
I always knew that when I grew up, I wanted to be a Prima ballerina. According to my mother the moment I learned to walk was the moment I learned to dance. It wasn’t long after that, that I was performing pirouettes and arabesques throughout our living room.
Holidays, Chocolate Cake, and Frozen Lakes
Silence. It was the first thing I seemed to notice when I walked into our home that was usually bustling with excitement.
Slow Dancing In A Burning Room
The hinges creaked as I rolled the old barn door back revealing the dark musky interior. It was always amazing to me how you could feel a places history when you walked in.
I could hear the outside dogs barking as the visitors tripped the alarm that was attached to the numerous dog whistles. They were close and I knew that I didn’t have much time.
Black Indigenous People Of Color
There are two things in life that I find I am passionate about, Writing and Representation. For years I’ve intertwined them, making sure that what I wrote represented all walks of life, and that as a woman of color, I reached people who could relate to me over people who would buy.
The College Experience
I was one of the few people that was actually born AND raised in Las Vegas, NV. Vegas is known as a melting pot; people from all over the world moved to the big city and settled down.
For One Last Time
I watched as her fingers moved along the keyboard with grace and a beauty that others could never match. Her face was a mask of calm and contentment, opposite from the controversy of war and juvenile opinions going on outside the small piano bar. The piano bar that was perfectly located on the outskirts of town.