▷ WHAT I WRITE◁
Some of the things I write don’t stay on this page. Sometimes I go outside when the sky is heavy with clouds and write anyway. I let the words come soft at first, almost harmless, until I read them back and they don’t sit right in my mouth. Most of it ends up in a full bin of poetry I don’t look at twice.
Here, I don’t try to make anything perfect—just things that linger. Moments that catch in your chest before you understand why. I write women loving women and men loving men, connections that feel a little too close, a little too intense to be held neatly. The kind that feel gentle until they aren’t, and stay in your mind longer than they should. The kind of love that sounds simple when spoken, but never feels that way when lived.
I write things that don’t leave me alone after I’m done. Things that stay under my skin, turning into something light but uneasy—like standing too long in a beautiful place and realizing you don’t quite trust it.
It sits in my chest and doesn ’t go away. Not when I stop writing, not when I try to ignore it. And I wish the same for you.