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I once lived in the warmth of brown eyes, Believing they held all the light I needed. A gaze that wrapped my world in quiet surrender, Whispering promises, bending reason. But in a single moment, the color shifted, And what I knew unraveled into blue. Brown dissolved into a distant echo, While blue became the
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In the search for love, perhaps all a soul truly needs is to be present in Manhattan. Falling in love with New York City is a perilous affair, for it is not merely the city itself that captivates us, but rather the person we aspire to become, leaving behind the mediocrity of our past. When
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3 of 3 I’m from a place where fireflies light the trees like magic and a kiss from a boy too early is a sin. I love like my father; from afar, wishing you well. I learned from my mother to hide behind a sharp tongue. When I say hello, please treat it as if
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Fantasy kissing the cheek of reality was the birth of my mania. The innate beauty of life is addicting to me, and I underestimate the pain that comes with it. I forget the company Pain keeps— how Loneliness is a friend of a friend, and just as deadly. Those two make the world feel foreign.
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I live with a writers anxiety where the words that reside in my head obsess over print. Anxiety so strong that my thoughts have formed into a narration. I recite lines in my head ignoring our current conversation. “Wait, what did you say?” “Please, can you repeat that?” Nervous laughter as my only contribution. Incessantly,
Wishful Thinking 