My dad's great uncle was named "Flake," because his parents had popped out a litter of kids and didn't have the imagination or energy to attach any other name to him besides the one that was so painfully, perfectly black and white: mistake.
So when these men, much like snowflakes, all different but all choosing the same ending, swirl in and then melt away, I feel as if they're trying to label me with the same name. You see, beautifully intricate and delicate promises can't be considered captivating if the only promise they keep is one of vanishing. So, I will not beg for your winter no matter how much it may glitter and sing. For you will take it all away, staying only long enough for me to remember and long for your return.
And I will not beg for a season.
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I'll Lose You in the Stars
PoesíaA collection of poetry and prose detailing a journey through youth and adulthood. Basically, this is a dump of old and new writing. Please comment your thoughts and constructive criticism! Let's help each other find healing and joy amongst the r...
