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weight of my hair
My hair has always carried the marks of different times, feelings, and separations in my life. In elementary school, when chronic eczema took over my scalp and stained…
4 min read
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let me check again
At night, my apartment, I mean wherever I happen to stay, turns into a memory museum. Floors creak too loudly, the faucet starts sounding like a concert and…
4 min read
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help is a coal stove for me
Since I began blogging, I’ve noticed something about the way I speak about myself. To write about a feeling, to open up about anything at all, it has…
4 min read
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My birthday is seeping into me
There’s a pressure that builds in my chest every year around this time. I still can’t put a name on it. Ever since I recognized that people celebrated…
4 min read
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a summary of my augusts
a short one. there has always been something about my birth month that brings a lump to my throat. something shamelessly haunts me, makes my soul heavier each…
4 min read
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I don’t have a best friend anymore
After a certain time in my life, I’ve always lived somewhere in the middle. In school, I was never the loudest or the most withdrawn. I was just…
4 min read
You can call me Celestica. This space is where I leave behind the things I don’t know how to carry. Pieces of writing, photographs, poems, and states of mind that never fully left. Welcome.
