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“Some days, the light falls strangely across the floor, and I almost believe it's trying to speak telling me about the versions of myself I left behind. The girl who thought love was a folded paper note; the boy I once called home but forgot how to find; the promises we buried in the mouths of wilted flowers. I walk slower now.” — Maimoona Abidi
Some days, the light falls strangely across the floor,
and I almost believe it's trying to speak
telling me about the versions of myself I left behind.
The girl who thought
love was a folded paper note;
the boy I once called home
but forgot how to find;
the promises we buried
in the mouths of wilted flowers.
I walk slower now.