It’s been a while —

The pressure of comparisons weighed me down in a way I thought I had gotten over. So I spent time getting absorbed into my own headspace again. There was a lot of thinking and un-thinking and re-thinking and thinking that thinking wasn’t enough. I had to do something.

This is that something.

The bridges stitch

both halves of the city together. They keep the river from bleeding through. There’s a calmness to the waters that I beg to be, but I keep on moving. My skin is sun-dipped from all the paths we’ve taken today. My eyes are dripping sweet visions that aren’t enough.

No matter how far you go, you can’t escape yourself.

I sink heavy

with all the lives I’m not living. But there’s quiet nearby, and the breeze slips through drying sheets on balconies.

I can count the number of taxis in this town on one hand, and there’s a church over there that screams for attention.

But then there’s also this ledge — with a love-at-first-sight kind of view. I can’t help but think: given all the lives I’m not living, I’m so glad to be living this one.

There are legacies

that I can still feel here. Even in ruins, people gather to marvel at this narrative of what once was, of who they once were.

We hold onto every piece of ash and dust. I think it’s because they’re the closest thing we have to forever.

I’m trying to

listen more. Because these walls tell stories of growing old and growing in love. There are pieces of soft wisdom chipping off. I can only hope that one day I’ll be able to make sense of it.

For now, all I can do is feel the cobblestone under the arches of my feet. And all I need are for these streets to pave the way home.

“It’s like the people who believe they’ll be happy if they go and live somewhere else, but who learn it doesn’t work that way. Wherever you go, you take yourself with you.”
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