No more holding doors open, saving seats, making excuses, extracting truths, filtering out hurt to protect the other, looking to the morrow as a saviour from this day. No more wistful longings for horizons I can never reach, and hoping that the stars can see in me what I can’t. The magic I anticipated was never in creating portals to other realms, to escape this. It was always a power held in my pain to transform this realm, to create a space that I don’t have to fear or explain myself in.
I had to discover my wholeness through the reflection of a broken and fragmented world. I tried breaking myself down to match the shattered pieces around me, but that only wedged a distance of pain between me and the world.I was born whole, but it took me forever to fully come into my own, like bamboo blossom.
I tried to find my reflection in the broken hearts that I was meant to heal, but all I found was rejection. I was mirroring back to them what I was meant to mend, thinking I was the broken one. Thus we remained, enmeshed in a painful haze.
Memories taste like nostalgia and i wonder if it’s possible to plant them and have a summer of bliss.