Jeffrey Scott
4/3/2026.
I know my heart is true, because no matter how hard I try to fight it, it resurfaces It comes up like the butterflies you try to swallow down when you’re nervous— Like when you’re flying solo for the first time, so eager yet so scared. I know my heart is true, because it sings itself into the hums of a stranger Like the open strings you mistakenly strum when you’re just learning how to play. My heart sings out, wanting to find its place, hoping it will be accepted— Like the first day of kindergarten, wondering if they will all laugh at you, worrying if your teacher will be kind to you. I want to be seen, to be loved, to have someone know I was real and existed. I want my name written down in the book of existence, not smudged or drawn over with white-out. The age-old boulder we all carry, the cross we bear that bores its splinters into you perpetually. To truly know love for what it is, is a gift few of us receive, but we all chase after. Running after it like the airport shuttle you just missed, like that extra hour of sleep you wish you had gotten. Looking for it, turning our pockets inside out, only to find loose change. Fate will find you like the reflection you instinctively dash over in a puddle, always with you, whether you stop to look down or not.