Graphs Shaped Like Screams
We came into a world already sold, the air itself was portioned, priced, and spent, our futures pawned before we had grown old— we never asked where all the winters went. Our mothers said the warming had no name, our fathers traced the shoreline, raised the wall, the elders passed their silence down like blame— we grew up learning not to ask at all. We married under skies the color of rust, had…


















