talk more later,,
here is my first go: a short one from the archives
im the type of person that will talk myself into waiting my whole life to start something,, with the romanticized excuse that - no no - next week, will be the week everything aligns and it’ll finally feel right. with the hope that time will dissolve my fears of being seen - which I find is what it all comes down to anyway.
i have learned that it wont ,, at least not on its own.
sharing my writing, sketches, thoughts and scribbles is as seen as i can make myself.
thank you for bearing witness
archived entry from the summer of ‘23 , a note on transitions & being seen in all forms
transcription:
my tears emulsify into the water, glass held by trembling knuckles
they return home to the sorrow in my gut and embrace as if they weren’t sure if reunion would ever come.
i feel at home on kitchen floors with salty slug lines running parallel to either side of my nose.
viewing the corners of the home i’ve built as movie stills i soon wont be able to pause upon.
i’ll miss her bowed floors and the life she contained. i’ll miss the love i thought she’d bear witness to and i’m sorry the walls have had to turn cheek to so much yearning and heartbreak.
i hope she will remember me.
we got the first one out of the way!
talk soon xx