Grief, continued.
I'm still piecing together the horribleness that is Devin Cohee's death.
She was such a beautiful kid, making art whenever I saw her.
I can't stand that the Cohees, who gave me and so many other poets so much, are going through so many terrible things all in a row.
Devin gave me so much. She was in my second poem ever. She was my first audience, one of my first influences, just a tween when I met her but such a force.
A force I kind of just assumed would always be out there making the world better. She was a jewel, a human tiara. I wish I could thank her.
It breaks my heart and faith seems stupid.
She was such a beautiful kid, making art whenever I saw her.
I can't stand that the Cohees, who gave me and so many other poets so much, are going through so many terrible things all in a row.
Devin gave me so much. She was in my second poem ever. She was my first audience, one of my first influences, just a tween when I met her but such a force.
A force I kind of just assumed would always be out there making the world better. She was a jewel, a human tiara. I wish I could thank her.
It breaks my heart and faith seems stupid.