Then you lay your body down, eyes looking up, your fingers pointing to the sky. “You’re pointing to a star?” I asked. “No, that’s a planet. Stars shine, planets don’t,” you replied.
A birthday poem for a good friend of mine: “She will take you out from the fake city lights to places where sun looks bigger than apartments and malls. Men, you can’t drag her down, because she is stronger than your bones.”
I love your energy it bursts whenever you’re talking about the last book you read or when you sip your cold black coffee while writing
I love your insanity, your breakdowns, your random rambles, and your complicated thoughts. I love you wearing that casual shirt and faded ripped jeans. I
