(n.) a hiding place; a place of safety or comfort.
everyone finds safety in different ways. it becomes our home, our cherished moments, our loved ones. for some of us, it's the feeling of our partner resting their nose and lips in the crook of our neck, lacing their fingers between ours and sighing gently into the embrace.
for others, it's sweet moments of nostalgia - the taste cotton candy at a fair, the smell of freshly cut grass in an open forest and the fumbling of fingers making oddly shaped snowballs in winter to throw at our siblings who're making a lob sided snowman with a crooked grin.
our safe spaces can be in the arms of another, in our words or art and in places we most frequently enjoy. human touch, the things we see and taste - our senses are what we link to being safe. comforting memories become our hideaway.
as for me? i find my comfort in many ways, and poetry is one of them. writing down all of my scrambled thoughts, my heart aches and my joys.
so hi. i'm luna, and this is the documentation of my thoughts.