isabelle.chen

Throughout my childhood and into my adolescent years, I knew my life wasn’t the standard of normal that comes into mind when we think upon what a normal childhood of a young girl would look like.

There they sat, in all their glittering glory, far across the room from me.
The possibilities and remnants of what could have been.
The hidden potentials I would never have the pleasure to redeem.

I want to thank the voice in my head.
The voice that stays confined in my headspace and communicates solely with me.
The one that whispers to me in the dark and coaxes me out towards the light.

Many of us can relate with bitter indifference to the approaching winter season. 
The sunlight steadily retreats beneath the horizon,
And the last of the sun’s rays follow with it.

She found hope between the buttery, melted lines of her grilled cheese. 
A hope for warmth as the weather outside continued to freeze.
On her walk home, the chill from the breeze,
Was enough to make her sneeze.

A pen has often been overlooked for its despicable uses.
It means writing an upcoming essay for class,
Or scribbling down lengthy math problems showcased on the whiteboard,