New York
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The tilt of you, the fractures where the light slips in. I trace your doubts like constellations. Your mistakes beg for reverence, a desperate proof of life. I shaped you into a vision without weight, perfection hollowing all meaning until I warped your memory just to survive. There is no hesitation in standing bare, skin
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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
Wishful Thinking 