Tags » Spilled Ink

Coin Belt

In response to my cousin who chose not to wear her coin belt with her Hmong clothes to school. Her photo and caption evoked a memory of when I did not want to “annoy” others and cared too much if people judged me if I wore my full Hmong attire to school. 426 more words

Poetry

Mother, mother, mother.

At the age of five,
I was translating english words into Hmong phrases,
helping my parents fill out forms,
guiding them in our school’s educational system, 595 more words

Poetry

I wish I could text you and tell you to come over so we could fuck.
Not make love of course, but fuck.
I want you to grab my hair and slip your dick within me, fucking me raw. 80 more words

Poetry

I stumbled across a picture of you today.
As I scrolled down my newsfeed.
I looked at your smiling face,
and I realized,
You’ve never smiled back at me.

Poetry

Sex

I wish I wrote about sex

And how people make me feel upset. 


I wish I wrote about sex,

Like how I wrote about hands strumming an air guitar. 
 312 more words

Poetry

Generation

We are born into this generation of hate,
Of despising your natural body size of only wanting space
To grow between your two thighs, a butt as round as the honey crisp tossed, bruised, carelessly to the side, just because you wanted to be recognized for how thin you’ve become, 529 more words

Poetry

I could not

I attempted to feel cold, like the nights you felt
the chill of the world when it had abandoned you.
So I walked outside and pulled out a smoke, 227 more words

Poetry