“Promise me you will not spend so much time treading water and trying to keep your head above the waves that you forget, truly forget, how much you have always loved to swim.”
―
―
“Hope? I don't need your strength
anymore.
Because this morning, I stood on my roof
as the sun chiseled its way into every single pore of my
body, and I realized that I am
made of flames, that if you touch me,
you will burn—that I am the only match I need
to burn.”
― The Anatomy of Being
anymore.
Because this morning, I stood on my roof
as the sun chiseled its way into every single pore of my
body, and I realized that I am
made of flames, that if you touch me,
you will burn—that I am the only match I need
to burn.”
― The Anatomy of Being
“Some days I wake up
and all I feel
are the fractures
in the flesh
that covers
the only me
I've ever known.
Some days,
it's those exact
fissures
that let the light
hiding inside me
pour out
and cover
in gold
everyone
that found enough beauty
in the cracks
to stand
close.”
―
and all I feel
are the fractures
in the flesh
that covers
the only me
I've ever known.
Some days,
it's those exact
fissures
that let the light
hiding inside me
pour out
and cover
in gold
everyone
that found enough beauty
in the cracks
to stand
close.”
―
“It’s funny. When you leave your home and wander really far, you always think, ‘I want to go home.’ But then you come home, and of course it’s not the same. You can’t live with it, you can’t live away from it. And it seems like from then on there’s always this yearning for some place that doesn’t exist. I felt that. Still do. I’m never completely at home anywhere. But it’s a good place to be, I think. It’s like floating. From up above, you can see everything at once. It’s the only way how.”
― Caucasia
― Caucasia
“Once, I believed in you like a poem, turned your heart into a metaphor for my heart, turned our mouths into honey and caramel lozenges.
But metaphors come and metaphors go,
and not even seasons have the courtesy to stay till dawn.”
― The Anatomy of Being
But metaphors come and metaphors go,
and not even seasons have the courtesy to stay till dawn.”
― The Anatomy of Being
Paris’s 2025 Year in Books
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