Prose & Poetry

It is strange to write of pain so raw and still hope it might reach someone on the other side of it. Stranger, do you know? is a hand extended through the dark, broken, trembling, but steady enough to say, “I understand you,” when words alone could never be enough.

A descriptive piece about a meadow filled with grass, flowers, and a calm lake comes alive with colors, scents, and sounds. As the day turns to night, the sun sets and fireflies light up the dark.

This piece reflects on the quiet presence of house slippers in daily life, turning an ordinary object into a symbol of comfort, routine, and the small things we often overlook.

On a rainy night in Boston, a young woman rushes through the streets, clutching a torn photograph and searching for a way to disappear. A brief encounter with a stranger on the train offers a moment of comfort, but who is she really running from?

It’s about meeting someone who feels like home and choosing to stay connected.
It reflects on how that bond shapes the way you see life and yourself.

This is me trying to understand and unravel anger, failing multiple times in careful succession.