I Hope You Shine

No one can put out a flame that you build within yourself.

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What If We’re Supposed To Be Lost?

What if we’re supposed to experience change, experience fear, experience all the anxiety that comes from stepping into a new role or down a new path? What if we’re supposed to not know who, exactly, we’re becoming?

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The Lost Generation

We don’t run our hands
along the spines of books
or smell fresh ink on pages.
We slide fingertips over skin
searching, longing.

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Finding Myself (And Fireflies)

When I was a little girl I used to catch fireflies in jars. I’d snag them in-between my palms, always a mix of excited and terrified to feel their tiny wings flapping against my fingers.

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On Writing, And Losing Control

Writing is reading. Writing is imagining. Writing is falling asleep to the rest of the world as the air conditioner hums in the background and bunnies nibble grass outside the patio window. And there you are, hearing the fan spin lightly in the family room, and yet not hearing it at all.

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I’m Trying To Figure Out Where ‘Home’ Is

Sometimes I feel like I’m always in motion, spreading myself between people and places I love. Trying, so desperately, to understand the connections I have between each location and my heart, between the person I am in each city, each town, and each relationship I’ve kept and left behind.

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I Wrote About A Boy

I wrote about a boy yesterday. To be honest, maybe not just one boy. Maybe all the boys I’ve been hurting in the past year, the ones who wanted me to be something I just couldn’t. Not yet. I wrote a piece about a boy whose heart I broke. Whose heart I knew I was…

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When He Asks Me My Favorite Flower

He asks me my favorite flower, and I don’t hesitate. Sunflower. Bold. Bright. Brilliant.

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