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With Walt Whitman This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   Walt, call my name.

Make your purpose clear.



She weighs too much for my being to bear

And binds my tongue with kite string

I struggle knowing analyzation is my personal analyzation.

She ignores and persists.



Walt, watch me thrive.

I will never close in.



My dim eyes follow along, listening.

Words that scream truth are but sweetly

murmured by her.



My insanity, woman, my tumor.

My sanctuary, Walt, my garden.




This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.




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