The Mermaid's Voice Returns in This One

by Amanda Lovelace

you are the chapter i didn’t know if i should tell for the fear that i would someway, somehow write you back into the current chapter of my story.

in one of our many worlds existed a girl who couldn’t handle how very sad & confusing life could be, so she approached one of her many overstuffed bookshelves, got up on her tippy-toes, & pleaded to the dozens of warped & well-loved spines, “i want nothing more in this world than to be one of you.” miraculously, the books listened. they more than listened. from that day on, they took her in & raised her as one of their own. each night while she was supposed to be sleeping, the girl’s new family scribbled her into fairy tales about princesses & witches & even her favorite fantastical creature: mermaids.

star light, star bright, first star i see tonight; i wish i may, i wish i might flee my skin for but a night. - bibliophile.

“i wish i could be her friend,” the girl whispers down into the tear-stained pages, lovingly caressing the gold-dipped edges. “no—i’d rather be her.”

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.

in search of someone who made her feel like she belonged in this world, she went on countless journeys expeditions voyages. - it was always the girl through the looking glass.

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?

you were always my favorite wreck.

but the stars— they see everything & are loyal to no one. when she whispered her wishes into them, the voices from her nightmares came crashing down.

people are living, breathing I C E B E R G S just waiting for the perfect moment to pull you under. - titanic.

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.

cages are still cages even when they’re designed to look just like castles. - illusionist.

mostly, i just want to know what it’s like to feel something between elation & despair, besides nothing at all.

“when our villains win, do not fret. just rewrite the story.” - mother knows best II.

& so she did what any rational woman would do— ever so calmly, she reached out & she tore the stars apart.

i watched you watching me wane. now, you have no fucking choice other than to watch me - become full.

becoming your own savior sometimes means knowing when you need to ask for help. - therapy session no. 1.

- 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.

he immediately lowers his umbrella when i say i’ve never been kissed in the rain,

the good kind of drowning.

you, grabbing for my wrist, locking eyes with me over your shoulder while we run for the last train headed home with hundreds of faceless people rushing up behind us so they won’t have to stand. - i don’t mind standing if i’m standing next to you.

thank you for seeing the potential in me, because now i finally see all the possibilities that were lying dormant in me, too. - for my childhood friend.

i believe in endless worlds.

i tucked my story into the folds of silence in order to put other people at ease. - no more.

maybe i can be happy, i think. or maybe i can’t, i think. i quickly shake the thought from my head, humming a wordless tune i picked up from an old music box in the attic. sometimes it’s necessary to shut down the little voice that tells me this is but a rare, short-lived moment before i become someone entirely unrecognizable from the person i woke up as.

the further along i come, the more i’m beginning to realize that maybe— just maybe— there is such a thing as fate. as destiny.

there must be a reason even if i haven’t seen it yet.

we must take the good with the bad with the grey & decide what we want to do with it all.

“be stronger than the villains. be every storybook heroine come to life.” - mother knows best III.

‘DON’T BE AFRAID TO SING. BELT IT OUT. YOUR VOICE COULD SINK SPACESHIPS.’

trauma didn’t change you all at once it carved slowly every day like rivers do it was patient while it hollowed you out so it’s a sculptor or it’s a knife you take your pain and you other it you give it a new name and a new face you say this might have helped shape me but it is not a part of me you say i meant to break open to make room for stars - untitled. by trista mateer

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 II.

you are sad now. you are not sad forever.

do you think medusa didn’t have to cut loose a serpent or two? shedding those who do nothing but spew malice your way is crucial, even if they end up being the ones you never thought you could live a single moment without. as much as this twists a knife in your gut, you must give yourself permission to do this. how else are you going to make space at your table for the ones who have proven they’re actually worthy of sharing your meals with? how else will you learn that you’re deserving of being served first, before anyone else?

renegade /'re-ni-ga-d/ noun 1: someone who loves themselves despite the falsehoods the world spills into them. - & if you can’t love yourself yet, you still deserve love from others.

this is for the ones with starfall hearts and blown glass eyes

there’s nothing stopping you from being both gentle & valiant, just & magnificent, or any combination you should ever long for. the reason they tell us we cannot have it all is because they fear we will become even more dangerous than we are, & we are already such forces to be reckoned with. - open up the wardrobe & step inside. (homage to C.S. Lewis’s book series The Chronicles of Narnia)

She carried her hurt around in a tiny glass jar, lid tight enough that it would take two hands to twist off. She convinced herself, that much like Pandora’s Box, opening it would only cause more harm than good.

you worry so much about the comfort of others that you cannot remember a time when you did something just for yourself. - you are worth spoiling.

It took me nearly three decades to learn how to embrace the constellations of my own tragedies and dive, courageous, into the galaxy of who I am, emerging as the better, stronger version I deserve myself to be.

you did all you could do. now you must learn what it means for you to live.

take my words, but expand upon them. argue with them. change them. twist them. - make them yours.

the wonderment of all this can be found in the bits & pieces we’re able to gather from each other to form the entire window. - stained glass.

you don’t measure up

nobody has the right to lure your voice out of you—

no matter how you choose to tell your truths —a whisper melody s c r e a m— you are still toppling mountain ranges. - you possess avalanches.