the pieces
three
sisters, i have accepted the person i was is equally dead. i had the funeral for my old self.
the pieces
a collection of passing lines, random photos, and half-baked ideas. some things are just worth noticing.
the pieces
two
imagine hurting me the way you did, and still, even now, i pray to God and bow to Buddha for you, asking that you be safe, find peace, and have the strength to live the life you want.
the pieces
one
i want to earn my own money because i never want money to be the reason i hold on to someone, and i never want money to be the reason i walk away. if you ask me to choose between love and bread, i'd say: give me all