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i do not pretend i do not feel the way i do. i acknowledge the feeling, sometimes aloud. i do not grow or change for anyone else. i follow my interests. i stop over-planning my day. i imagine the container that holds all these parts. it is not broken, it is whole. i let myself listen to songs i liked a decade ago. i stay grounded as they take me to parked cars in snowy lots, orange light, and a hope that life was bigger. i let anger tell me how it hurts, and sadness does the same. i cut my bangs when i can see the mirror. curiosity grabs my hand and i feel the urge to interrupt it — i wait until the waiting is over. i eat what i want for dinner. i am just happy that i eat.
i imagine a day where i will no longer be afraid of the gap in the curtains and i hold space for if that day never comes. i stop trying to be a manual or a torchlight or a port in the storm. i am poem and constellation and the water beneath the waves.