May 5, 2021
there is something so astral about lying on ur bedroom floor in early summer at 2am, thinking n feeling n writing poetry but most thinking, window open as the cool night air drifts in n makes everything feel like earth n sky simultaneously. it’s like that space of bodily silence after one big exhale n the next breath u take. i feel like i’m in mourning constantly. i wake up everyday clinging to love n leaving it in small ribboned parcels to give any chance i get. i could be better. this doesn’t frighten me, only makes me try harder. i miss everyone n i’m thinking of everyone too.
