Poems for the Signs

by Michaela Angemeer

you are divinely held you have already survived your most difficult moments you will survive what’s to come the universe wants to help all you need to do is surrender

the tortoise cinnamon buns a hug after two years the last two minutes of a vanilla-scented candle an old t-shirt munchies at midnight not taking advice inertia a forest nymph worn-in work boots on the front porch sharpening a pencil to the last inch your childhood best friend's phone number taurus

emptied my cup to fill up yours until i learned that there’s no point in watering something that doesn’t want to grow

it’s ok to go slow all that matters is that you’re in flow

i surrender to wealth i surrender to success i surrender to divine timing i surrender to all the gifts the universe will gladly give me

you may never let go completely but you will move on

you can understand where someone is coming from and still not accept how they treat you

i yearn for all my former best friends talking about our periods at recess first crushes first kisses first i-think-i-love-somebodys i miss french braids and reading cosmo before we knew what anything really meant there’s something about friendship that gives you hope for your future a sibling by choice but sometimes it doesn’t rain for weeks sometimes you move to new cities you become new people and when you come home you realize the river you used to walk in together has evaporated

i can’t name all the people i’ve been since i was a kid

this is a reminder of who you are what you've been through and how far you've come i’m proud of you

have wine and pastries in a hot bath. fill the water with salt and oil. put on a red dress. take yourself to a wine bar. two glasses of red. fresh sourdough for one. bring your journal and write poems about the waiter. take yourself out for dinner. order a fancy cocktail. get the most expensive thing on the menu. steak frites with truffle fries. dance with each bite. take yourself for a night cap. rejoice when they say there are only seats at the bar. go home full with a new appreciation for you.

unicorns forgetting to reply snowflakes a one-way ticket intellectualizing your feelings light-up sneakers a tote bag bursting at the seams knowing better just five more minutes bear hugs a god complex bending the rules aquarius