perhaps this was your fire.

the star

in this time of rejuvenation,

take a moment to be proud

of yourself.

you made it

to the other side.

despite what you believed,

it was not the end of you,

and the courage that got

you through is not yet

gone.

use it

to carry you

towards joy.

healing is long and messy and often unkind. it can leave you feeling lost and alone as you unpack the boxes of pain and sorrow. but one day, this house will feel like a home. the painful memories will be replaced with happy ones, and you’ll never regret taking that first step towards the door.

when you are ready

to seek out love again,

remember this:

you shouldn’t be trying

to replace what you lost.

you should be trying to grow

something entirely new

instead.

i knew from the start

this would be the softest

love i would ever have,

the most tender thing

i’d ever hold

in my hands.

i should have known

i was heading down the wrong path

when sitting down to write

felt like readying myself

for war.

i would think:

how many more times

will i turn myself into a battlefield

for this?

how many more times

will i marvel at the destruction

i make of myself in the name

of my art?

it’s so gentle now—

the words spring from me

like a bubbling creek,

all peaceful harmony and flow.

—a new kind of inspiration

this, i think to myself,

will either be the most beautiful thing

to ever happen to me,

or the most ruinous.

perhaps though,

i wonder,

perhaps it could

somehow be

both.

god,

i’d let you

swallow me whole.

you’re the only one

to ever make me

want to change

my plans.

—revelation

this is a eulogy

for the hatred i piled

onto my skin in recent years.

a funeral for all the doubt

i carried on my shoulders;

i am burying it now.

this is my apology

to the only body

i will ever have:

i am sorry for pinching you,

squeezing you into tight clothes,

crying over you,

telling you to be better

when you were already doing

all you could.

this is my promise

to do better.

to be forgiving.

to be kind.

you are doing

your very best.

it’s time i do too.

i have become too complacent

with the feeling of wading through life,

half-submerged under waves

of obligations and requirements.

i’m coming up on land now,

gasping on freedom and

the way it feels in my lungs,

marveling at the sensation

of dry ground beneath my feet.

it’s been a few months, and you finally feel like you can breathe again.

today when you woke up, your first thought was not about what happened to you. instead, it focused on the day ahead.

it didn’t even occur to you to think of it at all until you were halfway through your morning. and when the first thought of it raced through your mind, you did not let it take hold. you didn’t let it send you into a spiral. you thought it, you felt it, and your heart twinged for just a moment, but then … then it was over. it passed. and you kept moving.