I used to think we were the Little Women

Louisa May Alcott wrote about

Meg was the oldest, responsible and kind

Jo was the middle child, passionate and determined

And I was Amy, stubborn and young.

Now I see each sister in myself and in them.

My eldest sister has the drive and intelligence of Jo and her independence, yet the softness of Meg, the soul of Beth. But the beauty of Amy.

The middle sibling, is a romantic like Meg and fiery like Amy, she always knew what she wanted. Like Jo she never gave up and chose what was right for her. Like Beth she finds solace in her home.

And myself..

I still bear the bluntness of Amy, her stubborn realism. But my writing is of Jo’s spirit, free and adventurous, words dancing across the page. I love like Meg does and strive to be like Beth, she appears in my homeliness.

We may not be the girls Alcott wrote of but our stories live on in my script. Our childhood selves saved away in the corners of my mind, waiting to appear on a page, preserved.

One day I’ll write us, our story, our lives


But to me we’ll always be my

Little Women.

Missing lemon boy again

Turns out he’s not always so sour,
despite his shades.
I can still see his smile
I hope it never fades

With every passing hour
He crosses my mind
I wish I could see him
I miss feeling, intertwined

I wonder if he’s thinking of me?
or maybe
reading my poetry?

Looking into your eyes
I feel at home

You make me feel whole
When I lose myself

You give me a smile
Even on bad days

Thank you for being
My hide-away

Sometimes I hide away from my reality

I wander off into smoke filled rooms and fall into blue screens

I sleep under warm clouds that threaten to smother me

My cheeks flush

I live inside my made up world to escape what I cannot face

I lie in a bed of guilt and despair for days on end

Unable to move
Unable to feel

I lose myself in this suffocating realm
I lose all signs of life

Until I can barely breathe.






Sometimes I escape just for some air

But I found that oxygen runs through my heart, not the wind



I came back to hide again

But this time couldn’t stay

For my smoke filled rooms were full of toxic gas
And the blinding blue hurt my eyes

My clouds suddenly felt weighted
suffocating me in a sick warmth


I guess my hidden world wasn’t made for me
But for my younger self



Unable to comprehend their surroundings
Unable to process



Now I leave it behind and step into today




Breathing in the achingly beautiful

And learning how to feel.

I noticed I stopped being so judgmental

Maybe because I have become more human



                         and in doing so


          I have understood what being human is.


   I am flawed

                                               I make mistakes

      And

                                     I learn

                                                    
                       I improve

        I love

                                                              I hurt

                      And

    
                                  I try again.