mia
I’ve found solace in words,
for as long as I can remember.
As a child, I would spend hours staring at my ceiling, waiting to fall asleep, mind racing with all the what-ifs an eight year old could muster. It was in these sleepless nights that I discovered my love of words, turning page after page, reading until my eyes burned and I was forced to close the book.
Most of my adolescence has been spent with my nose buried in a journal, trying to make art out of pain. Poetry became a vessel for self-expression and understanding; what was otherwise difficult to vocalize, translated effortlessly with pen and paper. I’m only eighteen years into my story, and there’s still so much to learn, but I am so thankful for all the love, loss, friendships, and experiences that led me to right now.
Poetry became a vessel
for self-expression and understanding; what was otherwise difficult to vocalize, translated effortlessly with pen and paper.
Poetry became a vessel
for self-expression and understanding; what was otherwise difficult to vocalize, translated effortlessly with pen and paper.
favorite things.
authors:
Albert Camus | Ottessa Moshfegh | Jeffrey Eugenides
books:
The Stranger | No Longer Human | Piranesi
quotes:
“You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.”― Albert Camus
“Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.”― Sylvia Plath
“You are a woman. Skin and bones, veins and nerves, hair and sweat. You are not made of metaphors. Not apologies, not excuses.” ― Sarah Kay
background & interests.
self care:
Writing | Traveling | Baths
educational background:
Studying communication arts and art history at St. John’s University
personal growth experiences:
Personal losses | Relationships | Moving out
recent posts.
Free
bleed merlot and paint my face with Your wine-stained kisses.
something sweet
forgive me if my words have dried up at my lips;
attachments
i want to draw a map of all the places your mind wanders...
savior
i've walked tightropes in hallways,
to whom it may concern
i don’t think that’s what he was warning me about when he told me i could overdose.
the addict
i wish i could go back and tell you: