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do you ever find yourself nostalgic for the life you never got to have? - (because i do.)
do you ever find yourself nostalgic for the person you never got to be? - (because i do II.)
when i tell you i’m still waiting for my hogwarts letter, what i mean to say is i never meant to be here for so long. - forever wandering lost & wandless.
“maybe i’m the book you forget to bookmark & leave on the train.”
happenstance /'ha-pǝn-stans/ noun 1: he & i. 2: me, falling down those treetop eyes. - who was i before you?
you’re the kind of intriguing that inspired thousand-page epics. - how many centuries have you lived?
a smile. irresistible lashes. a dark room. legs tangled. peace. - this is how i’d like to remember you.
she’s come to the conclusion that they like her because she’s sad & even more so because she’s quiet. it’s a lethal combination that makes it impossible for her to tell them: - stop. / no. / don’t.
some days, i still want to believe we can traipse into the forest & come across an enchanted pocket watch that will take us back in time to erase it all & start from scratch. - this isn’t that kind of fairy tale.
cages are still cages even when they’re designed to look just like castles. - illusionist.
i wondered if you were a changeling, except someone forgot to replace you.
it was easier to pretend you died. it was easier to kill the sleeping prince. - i wrote my own ending in blood.
give me lavender. give me valerian. give me warmed milk. give me the sound of every raindrop to ever slide down the side of the earth. yes, i will still have trouble falling asleep.
the family of cicadas nesting in my lungs cannot listen to logic or reason
i used to want you to be wracked with guilt, but these days, i’d settle for you feeling even an ounce of it.
what’s the difference? - victim or survivor.
Blood Water Paint by Joy McCullough)
“when our villains win, do not fret. just rewrite the story.”
she reached out & she tore the stars apart.
i refuse to believe you took something irreplaceable from me in that moment. - i still have every part of myself.
i don’t write what i write to hurt you. - i write what i write to heal me.
fighting your way here was well worth it. don’t give it all up yet.
i don’t mind standing if i’m standing next to you.
the only thing i can do is learn to live with the idea that i will never be cured. i will always be in the process of healing.
breathe. charge my crystals.
write a little each day.
say “hello” to the fairies.
re-read my favorite fairy tales. let no one invalidate me. give myself time. - i vow to.
breadcrumbs leading to more breadcrumbs that will, with any luck, eventually lead me down the path i’ve been looking for this whole time. - homeward.
a chorus of mermaids cried out to her then, ‘DON’T BE AFRAID TO SING. BELT IT OUT. YOUR VOICE COULD SINK SPACESHIPS.’
when you’ve walked on daggers your entire life, you don’t even know how to trust the softness of sand between your toes. - but you need to try anyway.
it’s time you give your present a fair chance. after all, it’s never once given up on you.
someone mistreats you again & you reply the same way you always do (“oh, it’s alright. i’m used to it by now.”) before looking down at your shoes. it’s there that i will write an invisible reminder to you: don’t ever take anyone’s bullshit. if they treat you as anything less than royalty, then show them exactly what a mermaid-witch-queen like yourself can accomplish. - slay those dragons
i still search the sky for clues that could lead me back to you, but i promise that the days of concentrated star-gazing are long gone. in their place lie mornings where i look to my feet and the earth beneath them, how they sink into the soil. the comfort of my roots helps me believe that healing is not just around the corner, it is happening with every breath to depart my blessed body.
my low days are frequent and stubborn, but eventually, my eyes will stop burning. they will transform from red to gleaming, hungry for the very things you could never offer. that is when i will remember who i am and what i have outgrown. your confines were destined to suffocate me at one point or another. all i have to do is discover the courage to punch through its low ceilings and narrow corridors.
when our blazing empire fell, i held a funeral for the ash. believe me, you did not disappear unnoticed. battles were fought howling your name. with every sword unsheathed, i expected to hear your voice persuading me to return. but i let a moment pass. (on the worst days, i had to let several moments pass.) when silence settles in, peace follows. when i am aware of peace, i remind myself to stay focused. i must transcend you.
i am coming to terms with the way your grasp pulls me in and returns me to a path upon which we once walked together. i am also learning to accept that, while you will always sprint for the ocean, i will forever remain an earth sign.
you are so much more than the rippling fallacies your reflection whispers to you.
those demons that lurk beneath the surface do not know you even though they pretend to.
someday, though it feels impossible, you will see yourself as i do.
when time has finally finished healing your scars, your siren call will scream “I AM GOOD ENOUGH!” and even your bewitching smile will shine through.
just keep singing yourself to sleep, and eventually your monsters will stop haunting you.
you are sad now. you are not sad forever.
some years, it’s all downpour. some years, it’s all drizzle. others, there’s not even a single drop. there’s no telling what’s in store for you,
rare as those days can be, they do always come.
you will pour words into your wounds like salt water,
while you cannot scrub the scars from your skin you can rearrange them into something like maps soft, and webbed, and patiently waiting for you to trace them through all your mad, wild mending.
chase the bad memories through that cold, unfriendly wild.
chase the bad memories through the ruins of the fallen.
so what? you are learning what it means to be the only one of yourself
