What’s a book that made you fall in love with language for the first time? Not the one you were assigned. Not the one you skimmed for a test. The one that made you pause mid-sentence and think, oh… words can do that. Maybe it was a line you reread three times. Maybe it felt like someone reached into your chest and named something you’d never said out loud. 📖 What was it? And if you remember—how old were you when it found you? (There’s no wrong answer here. Just stories wearing book covers.)

What’s one line you’ve written— maybe in a poem, a draft, a notebook margin, or a 2 a.m. notes app spiral— that still surprises you when you read it back? The kind of line that makes you pause and think, Did I really write that? The one that feels truer than you meant to be. Sharper. Softer. Braver. Stranger. You don’t have to explain it. You don’t have to polish it. You don’t even have to know why it works. Just drop the line below. Let it stand on its own. Sometimes our best writing slips out when we aren’t looking—and it deserves to be seen. ✍️🖤 (And yes, fragments are welcome. So are messes.)