emmayaps

We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget. We forget the loves and the betrayals alike, forget what we whispered and what we screamed, forget who we were.

- Joan Didion

Wistful Wanderings

If I had a poetry book and had the courage to put my actual name onto a piece of work instead of hiding in anonimity maybe I'd finally feel free. Unfortunately, we can't all be Elena Ferrante.

If you wrote a poem, what would you title it?

Essays