WE START WITH A FOUR YR OLD GIRL IN LOVE WITH ALL THINGS INNOCENT & VOLATILE she was born during a storm that lodged itself behind her ribcage, fear and recklessness were things she would never have to be taught she learnt the human craving to hurt & be hurt in the schoolyard revolution temptation came through unblinking eyes & flickering screens & imagination caution was hard; she had to unlearn invincibility first. when it came it was fire, & an intimate knowledge of ruin death was the heat of summer, just as it always has been, that lazy feet-scorched-self-destructing-ever-present dread love was a punch to the gut. or maybe that was hate. or both. that one-two in the dead of winter where night means so much more she learnt repentance on her unbending knees & the sea has taught her to dance IN THE END WE ARE LEFT WITH A SIXTEEN YR OLD GIRL AND THE SOBERING FACT THAT SHE FEELS MOST AT HOME IN A GRAVEYARD
STORMS or HOW NOT TO GROW UP, Sophia Anderson (via jailsongs)