United States

Californian girl, writer, sister, dancer, daughter, friend, surfer, explorer, ice cream obsessed, and only want to be a better writer, a better person.

Message from Writer

Constructive, positive feedback is much appreciated.... enjoy!
"Perfection is found in accepting your imperfections."


February 28, 2019


Home. It's building, a city, a hug, a glance, a book. It's a face, a song, a couch, a person. 

Home. It's your heart racing, butterflies dancing inside your stomach. It's blushed cheeks and hidden smiles. It's exhilarating, and new, but it was meant to be.

Home. It's your heart slowing to a silent thud, gently rattling through soothed veins. It's exhaling and shaking the weight of the world, judgment and jealousy and uncertainty, off your shoulders.

Home. It's being alone. It's being surrounded by strangers. It's somewhere where no one cares about who you are, what you've done. 

Home. It's forgetting everything. It's remembering everything.

Home. It's something everyone could have, some just passed by too quickly. They ran the other way, they swiped the wrong direction, they looked a second too late. Because they were scared, of what they did'nt know, of what could be, of something new. Meanwhile, the greatest oppertunity, the perfect apartment, the best friend passed by, forever gone. 

Home. It's a risk at the begining. Then, it becomes something like the fine lines in your palm: familiar, predictable and reliable. But never take home for granted, because home isn't forever. Home can be temporary. After all, everything is.  


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