to the stars, for being my home.

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(i) to my mother, for gifting me a telephone diary with a lock on it and telling me stories about the moon during dinner, as if it were my best friend.
(ii) to the Lumineers, for being all of my heart and inspiration, for making me fall in love with music, yet again.
(iii) to my friend, for picking up the phone and listening to my tears.
(iv) to my first love, for being one of the most beautiful things that ever happened to me.
(v) to my aunt for being my definition of selfless, for all the pampering and love.
(vi) to my uncle, for teaching me that families can be broken yet beautiful.
(vii) to purple coloured skies, for making me feel better about myself.

(viii) to my aunt who told me I’m not pretty enough, for making me realise that I didn’t have to be.
(ix) to the woman who told me I’m not strong enough, for making me understand that my tears aren’t my weakness and that they don’t have to be.
(x) to Khaled Hosseini, for showing me how books could hold beating hearts in them.
(xi) to the orchids, for making me feel beautiful.
(xii) to my poetry, for making me accept the most raw and honest parts of myself.

_to the stars, for being my home.
(these past 19 years) 

I’ve been obsessed with book dedications these past few days. Here’s a few of my own, unsaid thank you’s.

National Poetry Writing Month, Day 20.


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