went to portofino to find love.
found sunburn, €12 espresso, and couples aggressively reminding me I’m single.

o‘sha kundan

sometimes I forget that my father was a kid
hanging off his elder brothers shoulders before
he was a man carrying the weight of the world on his own.
I forget my mother was a teenager who tried so
hard to fit in with her brown eyes and knotted
hair before she was the pristine picture of what
a woman should look like.
I forget that my parents much like myself have
a past they keep hidden behind their perfect image.
I forget they can only take on so much before the facade begins to crack,
and the pain of their past begins to spill
staining all those they have come to love.

- a letter to the neglectful