i hope you’re reading this at a beautiful time of day. perhaps when the sun is smiling cheekily back up at the sky, the sky it just left behind. right as it sinks into the ocean and is swallowed whole, along with our fears and regrets. daylight is over. sunset. i hope that’s when you’re reading this.
i’ve been writing poetry since the eighth grade, when my crush told me i had horse teeth and that i studied too much to be cool. that’s when i learned to lean on metaphors and cigarettes and pretty things like green tea. writing is very much a cathartic experience for me, as it is for you (i’m quite sure). words can never truly express how very influenced my art is by yours. by you. everything you embody is beautiful in its rawness and truth. little by little, i feel i am nearing this beautiful openness with the world and myself. i’m eighteen and two months today. it’s funny introducing yourself that way, isn’t it?
it would fill me with absolute euphoria if you took a look at my blog: inneresque.com and told me your thoughts. i know the likelihood of that happening isn’t exactly in my favor, but i must try. you’ve sculpted my way of thinking. my way of breathing. and hence, my way of writing.
thank you, warsan, for being the light so many of us young, lost writers need. you are soft candlelight and piercing sun rays, magically combined.