By: Kashaf Fatima
There are places that still remember
Who I was, before I knew,
what leaving felt like Grass used to be taller than me ,
Sunlight felt like a laughter
My fingers stayed dirty from digging holes
To hide the secrets,
I thought no one ever found,
My laughter still stains the empty swing in the backyard
Woven into creaks of it's chain,
The hush of air moving through it ,
Like it's trying to call me home
And,
I stand there older,
And wondering how a bit of rope and sky can still hold so much of
Who I used to be……
Author's Bio
Hiiiii!!! Kashaf Fatima is a nineteen year old writer, graphic designer and creative director from Pakistan who lives at the intersection of literature and the cosmos. Founder of Astreon — The Youth Observatory and Palimpsest, she has built creative spaces from the ground up driven by nothing but curiosity and an refusal to be ordinary. Her words have found homes in multiple literary publications, her designs have shaped the visual identity of global magazines and her research has explored the universe from black holes to the forgotten women who mapped the stars. She does not fit into a single definition and she never intended to.