Playing with Fire

by L.J. Shen

Beauty was a seasonal friend; it always walked away from you eventually—and never returned when you truly needed it.

We’re all categorized. Stereotyped by our flaws and weaknesses. Welcome to life. It’s a bitch and then you die.”

“You cannot let it define you. Or stop you. Not anymore. Anxiety is a hungry beast. Feed it, and it will grow. Starve it, and it will die.

I’ll walk through fire for you. Love you. —Your old flame.

Because at the end of the day, we are all just phoenixes, rising from our own ashes, taking flight to an unknown destination, our wingtips forged by flames.