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I know I am Whimsy, but when I look at my reflection (ghostly in the window) I swear I don’t know the eyes tracking me— like something else entirely hides inside.
Air heavy in my lungs. Alive. Alive. Alive. Somehow, still here. With all these people & strangely, alone.
I shake my head thinking, We are all so good at smiling— like we invented it.
I am jealous of things that know what they are.
People always forget that a rough day, a bad year— doesn’t equal a bad life.
Are you thriving, Faerry? I think you are pretending (like I am pretending) to be good at smiling.
sometimes it feels like I am here but not at all—like in another dimension, like hell, but cold & damp & foggy.
Please say hi. I hate goodbyes. I’ve had too many.
It’s hard to explain when you are bruise-less. It’s hard to explain, I am so tired I have to convince myself to breathe each breath.
I understand. Trust me, you don’t. I hate when people say that.
(a rose & a thorn) Faerry & Whimsy Together.
We are both so good at lying. I slam the car door annoyed again. Faerry rolls down the window & yells, Almost like we invented it.
No one ever tells you that Sorrow doesn’t grab you by the throat. It opens the door, offers a warm fire, says—Have some candy.
Faerry squeezes my hand & we try to outrun the fog, the sadness, the sorrow, that is always coming for us.
Remember you have risen out of Sorrow before.
You are not bad. You are just sad. We are not bad,
Sometimes sorrow & joy exist together.
It hurts so much. No one understands— you are sinking while you are smiling (at the root of it I was sobbing in every room of my soul).
panic (is itching my bones) panic (I can’t calm down) panic attacks me. The panic eats me alive.
Remember you don’t have to be brave, you lived, you are (both) already bravery itself.
Do you understand now (reader)? There is someone out there rooting for you. You are not alone, in any Forest. You there, hello, bonjour, hola— we are rooting, cheering for you to live & thrive.
