Sometimes I wonder if words really do mean anything.
One minute ago it was all the moments every moment
And in this minute there's none.
But words have to be something,
Right?
It's all I have now.

I feel like I'm falling from the sky and no one sees it hurts to burn this bright. "Oh look, it's a meteor!" No it's just me again, can you wave back this time?
You're always so quiet.

My body is made up of the dark things but underneath my skin are the light things, and sometimes when everyone is quiet and distracted with themselves
I peek under there at the pastel colors and the softness of winged things flying around aimlessly.
It's a beautiful little secret that I keep buried in my dreams where I get to feel like a kid again but with all the knowledge I need to keep me safe.
There are fields and sun, and the perfect amount of a breeze.
I get to run, roll down hills, get my knees ***** and wash them off in a river.
I nap in the tall grass.
I can smell when the rain is coming
And I never run from it.

It's my favorite place.

My skin crawls into bed and wraps up in the thick of it,
Nesting.
I'm still so soft and tender,
I wonder what it would be like to feel tough.

My heart has become less creature and more "trying her best" in the last 6 months or so.
Less about sacrifice
And more about hope.

When I was younger I would hide in a similar nest and pile on the heaviest blankets so I could see what it felt like to be secure.
My legs curled up and the bottoms of my feet almost resting on the back of my thighs.
I'd grieve my moments.
The moments of being a kid and laughing and climbing trees. When most boys were stupid and gross, except my best friend because we would lay in the grass and look at clouds and laugh about how he could never see what I saw.

Now I hide in this nest, less to dream about the past and more to dream of a future where I feel safe on the outside of these blankets.

I am mad when people think I am incapable, moody, hopeless, dramatic, destructive..

But I can't stop being those things.

Being small never suited me and being anything besides indulgent and in constant search mode sounds like the worst way to live
So I'm just gonna do the thing I've always done and feel the things I love to feel then feel what I hate feeling and one day when I'm old or in that moment before I fall off a cliff, or walk into the street not noticing the car begging to meet me - I'll just think wow, she really spent her life in the center of the things the rest of them were afraid of.

If you see women like me and tell me you hate her body,
And then insist I sleep naked next to you at night with your hands taking permission to wander where they want to

How do I ever look at my skin and think ok this is mine, she's mine. All mine.
How do I touch her ever again