Somewhere, amongst the debris
of cigarettes after ***,
chemicals to induce sleep,
I forgot what it means to love.

I forgot what it means to breathe,
to sit still, and just be.

Somewhere, beneath these hooded seams
of solitude and well-versed grief,
beats a heart less cynical,
less tamed by vague distraction.

My nervous ticks and bad habits,
line of best fit for a near-hit
of satisfaction:

This is not enough, I know.
This is not nearly enough
to cool the bray of life
that still rattles meaning in my bones.

I forgot what it means to love,
what separates a house from a home.

Somewhere beyond this thirst
for brand-new words
is a gratitude for all that has been.
Every cliché holds a truth.

Every sentiment, a cocoon,
that I should lie so still inside

until I am wholesome,
until I am new.

you don't need a boy
to pick you up when you are down
you have yourself

don't drown yourself
when you know how to swim

stay awake until you are tired
do not force yourself to sleep, or to stay conscious

if someone asks you how your day was
don't lie and say it was good, if it was not
they asked because they care

do not fear the indifference you feel
you are not numb to the whole world and it will pass

don't do anything unless you want to
this goes for ***, school, work and love

nothing in this world comes above your health
if it means failing a test, losing a job, or ending a relationship
do what you must to withhold your wellbeing

all bad things in moderation can be good
moderation is key here

love is never to be feared, nor is it to be abused
love is to be taken when needed
and given back when necessary

nobody can tell you how to live or who to love
nobody but yourself

if that boy you like
asks to take you out on a drive at midnight
and you don't think you can go, do it anyway
but stay safe

face the consequences of all of your actions
with dignity and pride

it's Friday night and the week has been tough
don't give up now
take a sip of  your parents' rosé wine
coat your lips in rouge
and love yourself