i.
we hold on to happiness in
waves of sunshine and
petals of fallen roses and dandelions;
and the songs we play on repeat at
one a.m. on a Wednesday night
while dancing to the lyrics.
we hold on to happiness in
conversations about the past that
make us feel like we are children, again
trying to swing to the stars and
painting orange clouds on yellow skies.


ii.

we hold on to
fragments of the past
as if they are intertwined with
every piece of us.
as if they are frozen in
the air we breathe and
the words we write.
in old letters we hold on to and
the first poems we wrote
in old pictures we keep up on our walls
and cannot bear to take down.

iii.
sometimes, it is easier to hang on by a thin string than to let go
hoping that the fragments of this broken world
will come together the way they’re meant to.
hope is like
the strings we hold on to, when there is nothing left
the ray of light shining into an infinite void.
it is the feeling we will never have enough words for
and possibly the most fragile.


but how often are we sure we know what the world must be like
how often do the fragments come together ; just like they should
and how often do we save ourselves?

Rajshri's enthusiastic about the little things in nature, art, and words from the last century. She writes poetry, prose, and occasionally creative nonfiction. You can find her watching a movie or sipping on coffee and doodling on a rainy day, and you can find more of her writing on instagram @sleeplessoulschaoticminds.