The Sweetness of Summer

Hellooooo. I've been thinking a lot about how eclectic this summer has been. It has met me with seasons of deep sorrow, painful nostalgia, and glimpses of future anxieties. But mostly it's been kind to me, and I've felt deeply at peace with who I can feel myself becoming - someone I've been denying myself the pleasure of being for far too long.

I've been working on some things, and I may actually implode out of sheer excitement if I don't find a release for them soon… I haven't felt that way in a long time, and maybe you haven't either, so you may relate when I tell you that that feeling has evoked both utter terror and a sense that I am somehow even lighter than a feather at the same time. Talk about whiplash.

That being said, I've felt myself pulled down to the weight of the page again and again over the past few months, and would like to share a few little things (that are likely quite awful, but I will share them nonetheless) that I have enjoyed writing. 

I'll start off with this little paragraph about how I prefer cloudy days…

I don't like clear blue skies

I don't like clear blue skies. They make me uneasy with their devotion to blue. I like to imagine the clouds are ships passing across the sea. Often they are wrecked, their smoky timbers billowing out across a sky-blue sea. And sometimes I see shapes, like a child's unglamorous drawing etched across the sky. And sometimes, when the sun starts to set under a shelf of pillowy clouds, I can envision a great golden city of old hidden just past where my eyes can see. But it's there, in my mind, nonetheless.

Goldilocks

When I was young I didn't know who I'd become,

I couldn't see through the smoke of my own obsessions

with being who I am now.

I'd cry and I'd cry over asteroids and volcanoes,

and would whisper through the sheets of my destiny

that I wish to be older,

I wish to be wiser,

and how I couldn't wait to grow up.

When I was young I saw things more clearly,

the sky shone more brightly,

the sea a little less scary.

Things seemed so far,

I took comfort in the present in a way I can't justify now.

When I was young I'd breathe in the smell of sun bleached wood, 

on a park bench covered in rain.

I'd eat grass and cherish the hives that came after the fact.

I am still young, but I feel myself slipping

beneath the bubble of time

I have been gracious enough to my future self to forget.

Just like Goldilocks,

I can never find the right thing.

Shadow

My love is a shadow.

She follows when I'm high,

and pounces when I'm down.

She lifts me up, just to pummel me to the ground.

And I can't get enough.

My love is an echo,

a whisper in an empty cave

with musings scratched

into the walls.

She is the spell I cast

with the words I never speak,

& the ones that live on the pages

of my mind.

And I can't get enough.

My love is insatiable.

She wants what I can't give,

and steals what I can.

Her voice is etched into mine,

our invisible life lines woven as one.

And I can't get enough.

Because my love follows like a shadow.

It is the words on the page,

the heartbreak from the tip of a pen.

My love is the laughter at the line,

and the hatred at how it will

never fail to make me cry.

Because it follows like a shadow,

and I can't get enough.

When Old Becomes New

When old becomes new

and you can start on take two,

when summer grows sweet again, 

after August had turned blue.

And the snow turned warm,

and rain bled into spring,

and the flowers bloomed a bit too soon, 

and frostbite bit their wings.

When time begins to slow, 

at the dawn of a fading season,

and you feel as if you've run out of sand

from running too much along a beach,

without much care for who you were.

When old becomes new,

I start to feel all tingly,

like the calm before the storm,

the wait before the break.

I enjoy this time of year,

for I can see more clearly who I have been,

and who I have yet to meet.

---

I hope these little musings have found you at a sweet spot in life, or at the very least they bring you comfort in the gloom. So long for now!

☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾⭐︎⭐︎☾