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One November evening.

When the rain pours down in a cold November evening, pour me a glass of red wine. Let me watch you spread the blanket across the floor while I take the sip. When you’re done arranging the pillows and cushions together, take my hand and lead the way. As we settle into...

What you can do.

If there is one thing you can do for me, then please carry the guilt of breaking my heart like a heavy stone and make sure it drowns you every time you try to cross the river. Cry me snowstorm and avalanches while holding the sadness so close to your heart that it...

Maybe

Maybe you learned about me too fast. Of how I like my coffee all black and no sugar but how chiya needs to have a dash of milk and a tinge of sweetness. Of how I don’t have a favorite color but I want my Parka Jacket green and Skinny Jeans dark blue. Of how I am...

My coping mechanism is fucked up

I was born to a father who drank his tears with whiskey every single night when his father died. When the sun spread its color across the western sky, I would find him drowned in the glasses of liquor I could never keep track of. If there was no bottle left in the...

Sweet Talk

Validate me with your sweet talk. Compliment on how my curls are working for me, each strand spreading out across my chest. Comment on my black dress hugging my body and its delicate cream flower patterns. On my red lips and my dangling golden leaved earrings. On how...

Timeline.

Thirteen and half years old me wanted to travel around the world and write. She wanted to be a single mother by the time she was 30, she didn’t care if she ended up being alone. She wanted to fix the climate change. She wanted to stop global warming and prevent the...