i. sometimes there’s this airy knock on your back door and you don’t mean to know who it is but damnit you do. of course you know. She wears a sort of a flowery dress, not what you’d expect, and she says in a very lovely voice that she’s been picking sweet peas, would you like to join her? you flinch. picking sugarsnap peas with everything you lost sounds like too much.
ii. summer can be sad and summer can be happy but summer 2023 was a celebration and i won’t ever forget it. summer 2023 was just … it was alone in bed and an anthology no one will read and snacks made by my mother and promises of so much more.
iii. you are afraid. my teenage years were never what i thought they’d be but thank you for childhood.
iv. growing up is not crying with peter pan it is crying alone for forgetting to shut your window in the morning. it is coming home to cold bed sheets.
v. growing up is not crying with peter pan. it is talking to yourself in the mirror. it is a precious photo that you carry around for some semblance of protecting yourself.
vi. growing up is crying with peter pan. loving movies again. forgetting lyrics to songs. it is learning that fear can be beautiful. i’ve never felt so warm and growing up is scary but growing up is being.
i am perhaps not an hourglass to run out or a detonator running out of time
(Time is very fit. It runs really fast, training for a half marathon i think)
but i am keeper of the Keys to my door.
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