Sara Aranda
@oyesaranda.bsky.social
Creative Writer | Athlete | BRCA1 Mutant
Moonbox Notes #31: Fall & Film
[I no longer have] [I had to remove my] [I couldn't keep my] [I chose a chance at long life over having]
[I no longer have] [I had to remove my] [I couldn't keep my] [I chose a chance at long life over having]
Moonbox Notes #31: Fall & Film
[I no longer have] [I had to remove my] [I couldn't keep my] [I chose a chance at long life over having]
bivytales.com
November 11, 2025 at 9:53 PM
Moonbox Notes #31: Fall & Film
[I no longer have] [I had to remove my] [I couldn't keep my] [I chose a chance at long life over having]
[I no longer have] [I had to remove my] [I couldn't keep my] [I chose a chance at long life over having]
Moonbox Notes #30: Letting Go/Next Surgery
my husband knows where my skin discerns itself and where it does not—and between the islands of numbess my body has found
my husband knows where my skin discerns itself and where it does not—and between the islands of numbess my body has found
Moonbox Notes #30: Letting Go/Next Surgery
my husband knows where my skin discerns itself and where it does not—and between the islands of numbess my body has found
bivytales.com
August 13, 2025 at 7:07 PM
Moonbox Notes #30: Letting Go/Next Surgery
my husband knows where my skin discerns itself and where it does not—and between the islands of numbess my body has found
my husband knows where my skin discerns itself and where it does not—and between the islands of numbess my body has found
Moonbox Notes #29: Primavera (Hello, Goodbye)
how I wish to hold on bury myself with your belonging
how I wish to hold on bury myself with your belonging
Moonbox Notes #29: Primavera (Hello, Goodbye)
how I wish to hold on bury myself with your belonging
bivytales.com
June 9, 2025 at 6:39 PM
Moonbox Notes #29: Primavera (Hello, Goodbye)
how I wish to hold on bury myself with your belonging
how I wish to hold on bury myself with your belonging
Moonbox Notes #28: Post-Surgery
I remember when grandpa didn’t slouch, when he’d tell jokes, eat pickled pigs feet, speak his native tongue to the gardeners that care for his landscaping. He still laughs, of course, but it feels so rare. My husband once told that silly dog joke about a bulldog and…
I remember when grandpa didn’t slouch, when he’d tell jokes, eat pickled pigs feet, speak his native tongue to the gardeners that care for his landscaping. He still laughs, of course, but it feels so rare. My husband once told that silly dog joke about a bulldog and…
Moonbox Notes #28: Post-Surgery
I remember when grandpa didn’t slouch, when he’d tell jokes, eat pickled pigs feet, speak his native tongue to the gardeners that care for his landscaping. He still laughs, of course, but it feels so rare. My husband once told that silly dog joke about a bulldog and a shih tzu. Grandpa laughed so hard it was as if, for a brief moment, the curse of being a stroke victim had broken. Humor will always be what seems to soothe what cannot be said.
bivytales.com
March 25, 2025 at 8:48 PM
Moonbox Notes #28: Post-Surgery
I remember when grandpa didn’t slouch, when he’d tell jokes, eat pickled pigs feet, speak his native tongue to the gardeners that care for his landscaping. He still laughs, of course, but it feels so rare. My husband once told that silly dog joke about a bulldog and…
I remember when grandpa didn’t slouch, when he’d tell jokes, eat pickled pigs feet, speak his native tongue to the gardeners that care for his landscaping. He still laughs, of course, but it feels so rare. My husband once told that silly dog joke about a bulldog and…
I grew beneath the idea
women had saviors
& every struggle/grief/desperation
my mind would ask
Who Will Save You
36yrs old
& no one has ever saved me
Ive proceeded Ive solved
Ive stood back up
me my tireless self-preserver
me the hero in tunic
wielding sword & shield
waking each dawn
to rescue hope
women had saviors
& every struggle/grief/desperation
my mind would ask
Who Will Save You
36yrs old
& no one has ever saved me
Ive proceeded Ive solved
Ive stood back up
me my tireless self-preserver
me the hero in tunic
wielding sword & shield
waking each dawn
to rescue hope
March 24, 2025 at 12:12 AM
I grew beneath the idea
women had saviors
& every struggle/grief/desperation
my mind would ask
Who Will Save You
36yrs old
& no one has ever saved me
Ive proceeded Ive solved
Ive stood back up
me my tireless self-preserver
me the hero in tunic
wielding sword & shield
waking each dawn
to rescue hope
women had saviors
& every struggle/grief/desperation
my mind would ask
Who Will Save You
36yrs old
& no one has ever saved me
Ive proceeded Ive solved
Ive stood back up
me my tireless self-preserver
me the hero in tunic
wielding sword & shield
waking each dawn
to rescue hope
Some days I wake
thinking what have I done
my breasts are gone
these unfeeling implants
now the stage from which
I breathe, panic
knowing my body will never
be nor look the same
am I somehow
more idea
than flesh
such pain & such scars
& what ashes I am—
to rise is easy
to love what comes is not
thinking what have I done
my breasts are gone
these unfeeling implants
now the stage from which
I breathe, panic
knowing my body will never
be nor look the same
am I somehow
more idea
than flesh
such pain & such scars
& what ashes I am—
to rise is easy
to love what comes is not
March 5, 2025 at 1:21 AM
Some days I wake
thinking what have I done
my breasts are gone
these unfeeling implants
now the stage from which
I breathe, panic
knowing my body will never
be nor look the same
am I somehow
more idea
than flesh
such pain & such scars
& what ashes I am—
to rise is easy
to love what comes is not
thinking what have I done
my breasts are gone
these unfeeling implants
now the stage from which
I breathe, panic
knowing my body will never
be nor look the same
am I somehow
more idea
than flesh
such pain & such scars
& what ashes I am—
to rise is easy
to love what comes is not
Breaking News
is realizing the world
hasn’t changed
this is where
I search the dark
feel for the ESC button, CTRL F maybe, stumble letters into a box
how do you see
what you know you cannot
how do you search for
what may not exist
CTRL F
sanity, truth
honor, kindness
error error error
#poetry
is realizing the world
hasn’t changed
this is where
I search the dark
feel for the ESC button, CTRL F maybe, stumble letters into a box
how do you see
what you know you cannot
how do you search for
what may not exist
CTRL F
sanity, truth
honor, kindness
error error error
#poetry
February 24, 2025 at 5:05 AM
Breaking News
is realizing the world
hasn’t changed
this is where
I search the dark
feel for the ESC button, CTRL F maybe, stumble letters into a box
how do you see
what you know you cannot
how do you search for
what may not exist
CTRL F
sanity, truth
honor, kindness
error error error
#poetry
is realizing the world
hasn’t changed
this is where
I search the dark
feel for the ESC button, CTRL F maybe, stumble letters into a box
how do you see
what you know you cannot
how do you search for
what may not exist
CTRL F
sanity, truth
honor, kindness
error error error
#poetry
Nudity likely equals nipples
Isn’t that right
People have them until
People don’t, what fate to
Leave them upon a surgeon’s table
Even the word loses its
Sense of self and shape
#poetry
Isn’t that right
People have them until
People don’t, what fate to
Leave them upon a surgeon’s table
Even the word loses its
Sense of self and shape
#poetry
February 18, 2025 at 9:59 PM
Nudity likely equals nipples
Isn’t that right
People have them until
People don’t, what fate to
Leave them upon a surgeon’s table
Even the word loses its
Sense of self and shape
#poetry
Isn’t that right
People have them until
People don’t, what fate to
Leave them upon a surgeon’s table
Even the word loses its
Sense of self and shape
#poetry
To Do Before Surgery:
-write a letter to your boobs
suggests therapist
-buy those soft button-up shirts
-schedule alone time
so you can gift yourself
a solid cry
-remember how mother
did this, sister did this
millions of women do
-tell yourself the secret
your fear doesn’t know:
you can, you will
-write a letter to your boobs
suggests therapist
-buy those soft button-up shirts
-schedule alone time
so you can gift yourself
a solid cry
-remember how mother
did this, sister did this
millions of women do
-tell yourself the secret
your fear doesn’t know:
you can, you will
February 14, 2025 at 9:11 PM
To Do Before Surgery:
-write a letter to your boobs
suggests therapist
-buy those soft button-up shirts
-schedule alone time
so you can gift yourself
a solid cry
-remember how mother
did this, sister did this
millions of women do
-tell yourself the secret
your fear doesn’t know:
you can, you will
-write a letter to your boobs
suggests therapist
-buy those soft button-up shirts
-schedule alone time
so you can gift yourself
a solid cry
-remember how mother
did this, sister did this
millions of women do
-tell yourself the secret
your fear doesn’t know:
you can, you will
Moonbox Notes #27: Winter 2025
Inner eyelid, soft Night like any, this Sweeping urge to think One thousand sheep March into the darkness Never looking back at you,
Inner eyelid, soft Night like any, this Sweeping urge to think One thousand sheep March into the darkness Never looking back at you,
Moonbox Notes #27: Winter 2025
Inner eyelid, soft Night like any, this Sweeping urge to think One thousand sheep March into the darkness Never looking back at you,
bivytales.com
February 5, 2025 at 6:00 PM
Moonbox Notes #27: Winter 2025
Inner eyelid, soft Night like any, this Sweeping urge to think One thousand sheep March into the darkness Never looking back at you,
Inner eyelid, soft Night like any, this Sweeping urge to think One thousand sheep March into the darkness Never looking back at you,
why do they let him
I thought they didn’t like
false gods
they’re supposed to be
small government
freedom
here they are
raiding schools
worshipping everything
about control
banning truth and history
subjugating women’s bodies
and he said he’d do this
yet they turn their heads
blind eye for an eye
I thought they didn’t like
false gods
they’re supposed to be
small government
freedom
here they are
raiding schools
worshipping everything
about control
banning truth and history
subjugating women’s bodies
and he said he’d do this
yet they turn their heads
blind eye for an eye
February 3, 2025 at 5:12 PM
why do they let him
I thought they didn’t like
false gods
they’re supposed to be
small government
freedom
here they are
raiding schools
worshipping everything
about control
banning truth and history
subjugating women’s bodies
and he said he’d do this
yet they turn their heads
blind eye for an eye
I thought they didn’t like
false gods
they’re supposed to be
small government
freedom
here they are
raiding schools
worshipping everything
about control
banning truth and history
subjugating women’s bodies
and he said he’d do this
yet they turn their heads
blind eye for an eye
Inner eyelid, soft
Night like any, this
Sweeping urge to think
One thousand sheep
March into the darkness
Never looking back at you,
It’s as if they know, in this
Abyss, there is no such thing
#insomnia #nearpoemaday
Night like any, this
Sweeping urge to think
One thousand sheep
March into the darkness
Never looking back at you,
It’s as if they know, in this
Abyss, there is no such thing
#insomnia #nearpoemaday
January 30, 2025 at 5:51 PM
Inner eyelid, soft
Night like any, this
Sweeping urge to think
One thousand sheep
March into the darkness
Never looking back at you,
It’s as if they know, in this
Abyss, there is no such thing
#insomnia #nearpoemaday
Night like any, this
Sweeping urge to think
One thousand sheep
March into the darkness
Never looking back at you,
It’s as if they know, in this
Abyss, there is no such thing
#insomnia #nearpoemaday
I started a Substack to share old and new writing: bivytales.substack.com?r=ors5&utm_m...
Sara Aranda | Substack
B.A. in Creative Writing with an emphasis in Poetry | Freelancer | Athlete | BRCA1 Mutant
bivytales.substack.com
January 28, 2025 at 5:45 PM
I started a Substack to share old and new writing: bivytales.substack.com?r=ors5&utm_m...
Have you ever seen diamond dust
do you even remember January snow
do you cry in front of the pellet stove
as wild turkey shriek outside
as embers of social media
dim, even the barrel of despair
crumbles like toast into
another monotone thing
ash is softer than snow
& it never glitters
#nearpoemaday
do you even remember January snow
do you cry in front of the pellet stove
as wild turkey shriek outside
as embers of social media
dim, even the barrel of despair
crumbles like toast into
another monotone thing
ash is softer than snow
& it never glitters
#nearpoemaday
January 25, 2025 at 6:00 PM
Have you ever seen diamond dust
do you even remember January snow
do you cry in front of the pellet stove
as wild turkey shriek outside
as embers of social media
dim, even the barrel of despair
crumbles like toast into
another monotone thing
ash is softer than snow
& it never glitters
#nearpoemaday
do you even remember January snow
do you cry in front of the pellet stove
as wild turkey shriek outside
as embers of social media
dim, even the barrel of despair
crumbles like toast into
another monotone thing
ash is softer than snow
& it never glitters
#nearpoemaday