There is a quote that goes, “Her own thoughts and reflections were habitually her best companions,” by Jane Austen. While my thoughts have not always been my best companions nor have they been quiet, they are constantly there. I suppose, in a way, this book of poems is an attempt at being friends with these tireless companions. In this book, I recollect old fragments of my childhood and try to make sense of it all. I document my attempts at navigating friendships that end without conclusions and coming to terms with they way things are. Coming into young adulthood, I am still learning to claw through years’ worth of frustration and confusion, hoping to channel it out until it all settles. It may or may never happen, but at least this book is me trying.