If I slice my heart open, you will see flours sprout and roots sewing the pieces back together gently and softly.

If I turn my back to you and offer up my spine as a fishing rod, you will see feathers nesting in between my bones.

If I open up my palm and reach out to yours, you can look down on my life line growing.

My scars are there, unhidden, unapologetic.

Look closely and see how they have healed, untainted by pain, unaffected by loss.

My skin reminds me of your touch and my heart beats singing your name.

But my skin is thick and remembers what it needs to grow brighter.

And my heart is fierce and only remembers how light is something that comes from within and not from people.

This is a story void of metaphors.

This is a tale with no symbolism.

This is a love letter.

This is a love letter to you.

You that you have brought my wilting heart back.

You have breathed the memories of what it feels like to be capable of generous love.

But love is fickle.

And when I say fickle and remember you, I stop myself.

I see how before we were the ghost of something undefined, we were the light of a burning candle in the midst of darkness.

But for now I cradle my heart, slowly, let it unfold, and tell it the story of how it overcame many crashing waves in order to enjoy the warm sun.


Alive and well*

My dreams are made of city lights and skyscrapers. They’re as high as the sun. They shine as brightly as the moon. And at night when all minds wander, my dreams explode with life.

My dreams are bound to me, they cannot exist, they cannot breathe, and they cannot rise without me. I feed them life! And I… I do not exist without my dreams. They haunt me and pull me and defy me to be, they defy me to be more than I ever dared!

My dreams, they are an exquisite mix scent of magnolias and lilies. They swift from room to room, invigorating and engaging. They arouse and create. They inspire and infatuate.

They do not know limits. I cannot conquer them or outgrow them for they will always be a step ahead, they will always shine a little more.

My dreams, they laugh and cry. They fall in love so passionately, so deeply and they cannot contain their twirling, they cannot restrain their swirling. A flow of rivers that fall into the sea. They’re made of smiling fruits and heavenly music. They shine in the light of a candle and bring me comfort when I fall behind.

My dreams, they rise and rise. Even after they fall.

But mostly… my dreams are mine and I am theirs and we are one.


Recommended playlist:

– I won’t disagree by Kate Voegle

– Fast car by Tracy Chapman

– If it kills me by Jason Mraz