I’m trying to write more positive ‘notes to self’ during the day,
and less suicide notes during the night.
I think I’m scared that someday,
someone might realize that they are not “just poems.”
But then again maybe i’m scared that i’ll be the one
making realizations.
So note to self, you are growing, growing, growing,
and it doesn’t really matter how small you feel from time to time,
people care even if you struggle to accept it sometimes.
Note to self, that the hardest thing you will ever have to do
is probably learn to let go,
leave the pieces as they are, walk away.
I know you always laugh at people who try to convince you
that things always happen for a reason- they don’t,
but spending your life trying to pick up pieces of things and people
that never were, have been, or will be
doesn’t serve you any good either.
The days are mostly sunny and warm where you live
but there are dark days,
even on those try and remember the feeling of warmth on your skin,
it won’t be long, it won’t be long until you feel it again.
This particular note, you must write on colorful post-its
and stick them everywhere,
write with capital letters that numbers on a scale
are nothing but abstract concepts,
shoved into your consciousness by society, be gentle with yourself
they mean nothing. Underline it twice.
And please, never love less, never love less,
the world is strange and dark as much as it is beautiful,
and often so are the people,
don’t let any of it make you hard, and cruel, and uncaring.
tangentwithtanner
turnnoffyourmind
vaporwave
