Becoming Someone

“Let me love you one last time. 

Then

help me leave you,

             if you would be so kind. “

 

I keep getting these glimpses into who I’m going to be.  

I see them in some pictures, that look like me but also don’t. 

They make me feel excited. Warm. Reassured that I will be okay, even when I feel stuck. When my words don’t flow or when my anxiety rises to a level that my dad begins to do my laundry. When I’m living in mess and arranging myself around it, like I’m the inconvenient one. 

When I feel like I’m hopeless and unlovable. Never enough to be successful. Like I’m not enough to find that love that stops everything. 

Even enough to feel full in myself without needing others to watch or see me. To be enough for me and me alone. 

I like mystery in life. However I also like knowing that amongst the routine I find happiness. That I am right where I need to be. 

On time with who I’m becoming. I like that I can understand myself so clearly atm. I like that writing is a need. A pull that is so enjoyable and revealing, it feels like I’m doing something right without even trying. 

I like not replying and letting things leave my mind without having to drag them by the tail.

I like having these mad-hatter bursts of inspiration at 2:33am, right when I’ve let go of the day and anything that left me feeling off-balanced.

 

That in the spareness of my mind something breaks free.

You know like when your moments from sleep, half in mid-conversation with God whilst also floating in a pool somewhere. With willow trees touching your nose and lilies circling your body-

something pulls me back, with a kiss and a slap. 

 

You can’t leave this world yet – it tells me.

‘Creativity’- this thing that speaks to me. 

 

Like a love-language, spoken softly. 

Quickly. 

Colours, hair styles with matching bags. 

Cuts, where the pockets live and where the feather go. Like adding a puff of chocolate on top of the coffee before it’s lovingly whisked away and served up to stare like a puppy at a pair of lips. 

To taste it’s snowflake sweetness, the foam to tickle your tongue.  

Creativity- a free elixir, to help you stay young. 

 

I like that even though I crave control, I don’t feel like I need it when it comes to inspiration. I feel like I am gifted inspiration when I take care of myself. When I really live. 

That’s when the words flow. That’s when I think and thread together everything I see.       I feel. I hope. I want. 

With words and drawing, I catch the crumbs of my heart. As they shake and swirl throughout the day. 

Tumbling out, I catch them before they burry themselves into the couch cushions. Never to be seen again. 

Inspiration reminds me that being intact is overrated.

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