nostalgia
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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 used to think that love could make time stop, but he taught me time is irrelevant. He could infuriate me like no one else, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more exasperated with someone. I could never bring myself to intentionally hurt him. Yet, the fear of missing out on something so painfully
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One of my favorite quotes comes from a letter John Steinbeck wrote to his hopelessly romantic son. In it, he reminds him that love is real if he believes it to be so and encourages him to embrace it without fear. Steinbeck speaks tenderly about the many forms love can take, from selfish and cruel
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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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2 of 3 Do not ask me for advice, I am without my love. Do not ask me how I live without. Ask me about the weather. For he is the beautiful storm, the cloud over my head, and why I pray for rain. It is a troubled feeling, longing for someone. Losing them in
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My biggest fear is loneliness. Family, faith, lovers— have all left at a time. I even tried to leave myself. I’m worse than any ghost, haunting old places in my mind, forming a home in the crypt that occupies my heart. Nostalgia is a disease that hinders me. But my memories are where my angels
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Every year, I write a blog post to recap my life. I’ve been so busy and feel creatively stunted. My writer’s block occurs when my emotions are in control. I felt like I was a better writer when my emotions were running havoc on my life. Now, I’m not so impulsive and my emotions do
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Reminded of forgotten desires. Dark, with television to lighten the rich, brown, mahogany, that is my skin. So soft. Addicted to touch. My hips seared by your fingertips. Shadows danced on the walls as you gave the phantom kisses that reside on my thighs. The music background noise to your name, as if it was the
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Maybe coincidences happen But your curiosity is a burden. I want you to take a moment, Like I took a year. Calling out to the old times I need to know, what survived? With a kiss of nostalgia We are staring down a two-way mirror. Take your minute to see me, As I get my
Wishful Thinking 