i like to think that you can find all the places i’ve seen within me.
there’s the meadow i glimpsed out the car window, once. i imagine the grass tickling my feet, reminding me to be gentle amidst the budding of wildflowers. they remind me of my thoughts in bloom, all at once. never is it a place for decaying dreams, but sprout as they do, weeds hungry for the light of day. the breeze, like a dying lullaby i’ve forgotten the words to, is swift to cast them away.
there’s the city i was born in - a maze of a million restless souls, so much like all the people who i have once been and never will be. they’re trying to escape, trying to touch someone else’s heart before even knowing their own. the trains flying through the tunnels mimic my blood, rushing through my veins & towards the centre of the cosmos, where the feelings are raw & the magic is real. the destination? the deepest, darkest chambers of my pulsing red heart.
there’s the ocean at the apex of the storm, five minutes from the safety of my home. it’s an entropy of water — waves breaking themselves against each other; emotions all pent-up before the spillage, & the patterns they form in their despair almost fascinate me. you tell me they’re reflected in my eyes, in the traces of my palms & in the lines of my body. soon, i begin to memorise them anew, unafraid even as the sky rages.
