BetweenTheLines

  20 years old  Crossing the seas filled with dreams Memories scatter her past as she leaves her home, searching for a better life  The weight of daughter and mother on her shoulders She dares to dream for those who couldn't before  Creating her story Sooner is 30 than 20  Dreaming and working  Her child's future is always on her mind  Creating her story  Reaching 40 leaving 30 behind Achieving her dreams making us proud  Never giving up or breaking down Inspiring those who are afraid to dream Still a work in progress  Creating her story 40 years old  The story of a woman, brilliant and kind  Come a long way from where she began   Sharing her dreams and inspiring others  Creating her story  Obstacles learn to be scared of her  An unstoppable wave  Achieved the unachievable   A true hero amongst us in the shadows  This is my mother, my hero And her story deserves to be told  My w...

  WINGS   Keep flying one day you will reach your destination But my strength is waning— no refuge, no sustenance, no hint of hope on the horizon. Why does it feel like my wings are falling off  Why am i;  Sinking, falling, drowning  Maybe I soared too close to the sun, or drifted too far into the ocean’s abyss. I know the only way to save these wings is to stitch and bind, to unearth hope, seek light, grasp at something— in the desolate, unforgiving depths of this world.  

  Before I die, I want to feel.  I want to feel joy like a breeze on the beach, like the smell of salt and tropical flowers.  I want to scream so my insides know what anger means.  I want to cry until my house floods.  Before I die,   I want to enjoy. Enjoy the smell of dew in the morning, five people on a trampoline, too heavy for the springs, the threads are stretching. To enjoy gripping a cold hand as you slip and slide around an ice rink Enjoy sitting on leather seats with family sharing memories, on the road for hours, sometimes bored, never discontent. Sunlight shines through the window, illuminating my lap, flickering on my fingers. Before I die, I want to love so my heart sparks with flames. To love so deeply that it’s visible. To see it in my eyes, the smile that hangs on my lips Love is like a parade. Like when Santa comes through the neighborhood with firetrucks. Love that screams from rooftops. Before I die, I want to suffer. I want to be so b...

  I love the way the wind blows through my hair Sending the curls in every possible direction  Like wild tendrils reaching for the sky, Dancing to nature’s whispered melody. I love the way the sun illuminates  My honey colored-highlights  Beautifully casting rays of sunshine  I love the way the heat radiates  Against my shiny casted hair  Sparking a beautiful glow  Like embers catching light at dusk. I love the way  My hair emanates with the sweet smell of coconut  every strand carefully coiled to perfection Like nature’s own ringlets kissed by the tropics. I love the sound of the my curls when they crunch  whispers secrets to the breeze, A soft rustle, like leaves in early spring. I love the way My hair curls like the roots of trees under rich soil  Twisting and yearning  Deeply Grounded yet reaching for the warm sun  I love the way  My hair springs with excitement with every crunch A chorus of soft snaps, Like ...

  It explores the challenges of balancing two worlds, where a lack of cultural awareness can create gaps in one's sense of belonging. The song “American Wedding” by Frank Ocean parallels the concept of privilege. On the other hand, “Hotel California” provides a contrasting perspective on American life, emphasizing the gray zone where immigrant children often find themselves—unsure of where they truly belong. Both songs share the same tune but differ in meaning.  “Indian Wedding” In the glow of gilded sarees and the rhythm of ancient songs, she stood—a stranger to the vibrant pulse of a heritage she’d never truly known. She watched as the strangers known as her family danced in vibrant circles moving like swans sharing the culture of her ancestors.  Her heart longed as she watched her cousins' strangers to her heart laugh and share jokes singing hymns to commemorate the ceremony creating memories they would forever cherish.    "American Wedding" hummed softly in ...

Since When Did Classrooms Become Battlefields? The same cries, time and time again. You hear that fearful alarm blare over the auditory system. You’re told to hide underneath a desk. You shudder as you scooch into the corner, huddling against the cold, unforgiving floor. Tears claw at your eyes, and you watch your teacher’s hands tremble uncontrollably as she fumbles to lock the door. You text your parents goodbye. You pray to God for the first time. You made it out alive. Yet every time a water bottle drops, your mind escapes to that night. The night you held your best friend’s body in your hands, watched as life drained from her eyes. The night her blood stained your trembling palms, her last breath scarred your soul. You light a candle for her the next year, but the flame only flickers in the shadows of your mind. Her laughter silenced. Her future, stolen. Your community gathers around her grave. A sea of faces, weeping, mourning, remembering. And yet, amidst the grief, an unimagina...