The odds and ends of Summer 2018
I’ve always believed in writing authentically, which is why I’m here to tell you that I’m don’t have a perfectly crafted narrative that puts everything together in a linear way. Julie Van’s blog remindme that I can look at the pieces of my life and let them tell their own story.
So here are the odds and ends of Summer 2018 that I’ve compiled from all of my writing about love, home, and belonging:
I’m learning that I can choose you and me at once
This is the wildest love of my life
Us, I think we’re falling
This leather-bound notebook is the only thing that feels like home
Cookie dough ice cream in a kids cup
I can feel myself glowing
You are a ghost of what I remember
Will you call me
Sometimes fate needs a little guidance
I need a little guidance
The butterflies are alive and well again
No one sees me as clearly as you
Vulnerability or trust, they are inextricably tied
It’s about the craft and the community
Push push push push
I have a voice
They just can’t hear it
You will live in every piece of writing that I love
You can’t be what you can’t see
Let’s show them something different
I’d never forgive you, I whisper
As the corners of my mind bring you back
Have you ever been this close in real life
I’ve been waiting for a love like this
This moment is infinite
A dozen roses, I can give you one now
Seattle in 10,000 colors
My mind is far away
Again
I need to leave soon
I can’t miss you
How do they leave
And take all of you with them
My content is live
You’ve always been a writer
Does that mean I’m worthy of the title
I’m nervous
that’s new, I think
I’m living authentically
My stories, I think they hear them
A design & diversity fellow
Empathy, understanding without agreement
I’ll never quite dress the part
I told myself, I’ll never be broke again
Missed opportunities for conversation
I could be drunk on you for a while
We miss each other a lot these days
Another day in transit
Everything I own, now in storage
Her eyes shine like mine
I can be free of you
You’ve never looked this happy
I know
Sunflowers and dahlias
They bloom like us
Forever, a word that sounds foreign in our mouths
On the periphery of this city
Is my writing as vivid as me
This was never home anyway
Am I exhausted or angry
The responsibility to inspire
I’m lucky to be free
Looking for clues
Love letters I can’t send
Freedom and guilt, I am well-versed in both
For you, I’d give it another chance
I am a poet
because I speak in truths
is it love
if you give away parts of yourself
maybe love needs time
how long should I wait
the world is beautiful again