First Day Jitters
The cool air of the moon still lingered through the morning as my eyes opened to the light. I pulled the covers over my face in hopes of returning to the hours of least expectation, recreating the darkness to hide from the affliction of my responsibilities. To no avail, the alarm rang into my ears and shook me out of bed. I dragged my body to the edge of the mattress, ripping the blankets from my sheltered skin, to embrace the sting of the unforgiving breeze. The crisp cold greeted the tip of my nose as it leaked in through the cracked window. It was the only way I could ease my bones into sleeping, but it always became somewhat of a rude awakening. I stumbled over, collecting what was left of the joint from the night before, and pushed the window closed.
A Letter to Myself for Someone Else
To the girl who is always smiling, determined to show the world positivity even when she forgets to save some for herself. To the girl who ignites the spark in eyes that were convinced they would never be seen, who finds genuine joy in discovering other people's happiness. To the one whose heart breaks when she overhears someone being rude to their cashier, who was once on the other side of that transaction and could transform the frowns that were brought to her into belly laughs that healed both of us, even if just for a second. This is for the girl who tries so hard to love the world, despite the amount of time it has denied her of the love that she deserves. To the one who will never surrender her soul because she is certain it was made to heal the pain created on this planet, even through the moments she cannot find the energy to heal herself. You my dear, are the strongest woman I know.
That's the thing about this city, you’re either coming or going. If you stick around long enough you’ll end up forgetting who exactly you were when you arrived. Nothing ever stayed consistent. The trends, the businesses, the people, the personalities. The only thing that remained the same was the traffic and the glimpses of sunlight that caught your eye as it flickered between the buildings. I missed the summer breeze of the open country, but the opportunity here was undeniably worth it. I worked at an art studio at the corner block of my apartment, and I never ran out of inspiration. The concoction of faces you could encounter just by stepping outside, I grew a deep appreciation for the influx of people. The variety of backgrounds that molded each individual differently. I made a habit out of getting too involved out of sheer curiosity. Diving deeply into the history of the people I, then, considered to be friends, but that term was used loosely here. Most of them were concerned with the latest gossip or who could get them the next best thing. I never understood how they ignored the complexity of stories shared, always ready to flip it back to themselves and what they know. Strangers could become intimate encounters if they could only learn the art of listening. Humanity was patiently waiting to be heard and I was eager to learn.
Peering into the woman who stood before me, I got lost in the uncertainty of her glare. Unemotive eyes hiding the tension held between her shoulders, pulling her posture inward. The routine sigh wasn’t deep enough to release the tightness that wrapped around her chest. Quiet judgments filled the air, even in silence they were all I could hear, I guess I never quite learned how to love the reflection I saw in the mirror. Clumsily, I collect my things. Frightened by the echo of my mascara hitting the bathroom sink, still not a cacophony bold enough to bring me back to the moment. I had drifted down the deserted path of my anxieties, absent of the wisdom I held my standards to, and there was no end in sight. Alerted by the reverberating call coming from my torn coat pocket, it was time to force myself out the door.
Goodbye for now
I was at the verge of a new life. I was still there, but I could feel myself gravitating elsewhere. The life I had was fading from my thoughts and all I could focus on was the life that was ahead of me. New place, new people, new experiences, new everything that was just out of reach. I could not help but look beyond what was right in front of me and I was engulfed by the possibilities. Like any moment, but especially then, I knew I would never be the same.
Growing up again
I was broken, dragged down the path against my destiny, without a single memory that truly felt like it belonged to my being. Continuously going through the motions until I had forgotten what I was moving toward, I covered the feelings I refused to let myself express under thick smoke that only further clouded the clarity of my future. I didn’t want to admit I had no plan. The journey I started to collect the parts of myself I had lost along the way began before I even realized what was happening. For a while, I was picking up pieces to then only leave them in different places I didn’t want to go back to. Putting myself back together without the internal compass to even know who that was; it was beautifully exhausting. The determination to feel complete, while simultaneously overindulging in actions I didn’t want to claim, led to my downward spiral to rock bottom. The dying silver maple I had grown into was finally chopped down and it was time to heal my roots so I could bloom into the sturdy oak that would last the storm.
Feeling homeless with a house Didn’t begin in the years of my self doubt Rather, before my tears turned to droughts Numbed to the disfunction