Full of essays, poetry, and such—enjoy the madness.
Who I am
“Who am I?” This is a sentence that I learned to write before I knew what it meant.
Red Light
I am parked at a red light, watching the faces of strangers go by.
So Seriously
I used to take myself so seriously, but not in the way you might think.
A Beautiful Garden
In a beautiful garden, I have this bit of serenity. The imminent feeling of being completely alone while being close to so many.
Thickets and Thorns
Through thickets and thorns, I still stand today. Through scars and songs, I’ve seemed to make my way.
When We Meet Again
I hope when we meet again, you can see a mecca I have made in myself. A road, I have paved myself. Trees, I have planted and kept alive, myself.
Tripwires of the Mind
I feel as if I am the space between two. A gap in the fabric sewn. Traveling a road with traits I didn’t choose. What an embedded breath.
Nostalgia
In an instant, like a crack in thinning ice, I am flung into a time I had since stored away. A hidden file in my mind, playing, mimicking, a younger self.
A Child’s Eye
I look at the feathers of a grey dove. The way it shines in unadulterated light. How soft it would be to the touch.
Sunlight
I want a love like sunlight. Soft, and tangled across a room.
Personal Memoir
I covered my eyes, plugged my ears, and made little sing-song voices to hide the fact that my parents were squeezing any ounce of self-confidence I had fabricated over the years.
My new years check-in
It was the year 2008. My little body sat in the stiff, adjustable chair next to the family desktop computer.
Isabelle Justice 