Poems from okayls
a small small kayls in a big big salad.
eighteen from indiana.
i'm bad at talking, so i like writing.
If I did not write, I would die.
This is not hyperbole. This is not
Dramatic, attention-seeking tactics.
This is not me toeing the edge of...
Hit me with your battlefield.I want to hear about your battle scars—The ones you won by beingSo strong, so smart.Tell me about the men you...
it's been a month,
or so, since
i lost my breath.
i saw you bobbing up the aisle
while i was talking with some friends,
and it's like
the...
There’s this light on in the top floor of Shively Hall,
Which isn’t open, by the by; no one lives there,
And it’s always on, but it is most...
And looking at the crossing,
I think of all the ghosts and shadows
Mowed down by cars, phantom
Blood pooling in broken mouths
And bruised...