everything you do doesn't have to have a reason

bury the dead bees on your windowsill in the garden under wildflowers

turn of all the lights in your bedroom so you can watch the foxes

balance on river rocks and let the sun pierce through the canopy

through dandelions, otters, and deer fawns

be passionate and intense and learn to walk as your knees give way

april bleeds into may

its strawberry season, river banks and muddy palms

time to open the curtains in your messy bedroom and let the light in

you will one day have a space big enough for you to strech out your arms

for now?

let plum juice drip down your chin

and match pebbles to the scars on your knees

you are not a story

you are alive

pomegranate stains your most delicate white dress

pick out every piece of rind and crush the seeds under your molars

peel paper thin skin off of an apple and leave it to brown

once perfectly ripe now rotten and soft

speckled with green fur and bruises

it cannot come back from this

but you can

and soon enough the trees will be golden once more

i can taste june on my tongue

light cotton blinds and open windows run in my veins

while my eyes water with peach juice and seawater

dear friend

do you remember?

bike wheels and plasters?

tree roots and suncream?

i had a dream we went to the seaside

we lay on floorboards

spread our limbs across sunbeams

laughed, danced, skipped

dear friend

i left some memories for you

i hid them in a pink envelope

in-between the branches of the tree on the border of the park

along with some persimmons and a couple strawberrys

i hope you can find them

dear friend

can you feel it?

warm winds and the sweet bitterness of pomegranate seeds

if i angle the camera just right

we are all here

and the ocean i drew in your notebook is real

dear friend

we are riding on the last waves of winter air

slipping into spring

can you smell the rain yet?

i hope march will be gentle to us

dear friend

live!

live because of the sun

and the moon

and the clouds

the wind, the sea, the night, the day

look into the dark

and live

dear friend

we are cottongrass fields

sunsets

and river docks

we are the first day of august

dear friend

i miss you

i will go into the woods to live

to change what i can and shake off the restlessness settled in my bones

i will bring a flask full of warm tea

forever a child running out to the garden

to catch a meteor shower and bask in summer air

i still believe in a kinder world

i hope i never stop

that i never regret making myself gentle and kind

and that i can still go out of the door and feel the wind on my face

without thinking we are perfect

i am far from where i want to be

but i will get there

silence does not protect anyone

i will load all my things into an old rickety car

pull my friends into the backseats and we will run away

we can spend a week leaving traces of ourselves on the seaside

before we have to to return home

we all exist in multitudes

our wounds will never vanish

we may always have small scars

but we will love life in spite of our clenched fists

because love is where all of us belong

whenever i start feeling sad for no apparent reason

i remember quantum entanglement

and send out well wishes just in case

im a museum of all I've ever loved after all

im young and learning to live

im not perfect

but i am brave

and my grass will grow greener

love, lose and remain kind

do it

even if you don't, the time will pass.

there are empty seats for you in rooms you've never entered

all you need to do is step in and sit down

i stopped asking myself if things will get better

i know that they will

they must

you are the sun

the sound of rain

i am petrichor and wildflowers

or the stinging you get in the top of your throat

when you try not to cry

you mustn't tell me love isn't real

because i am full of it

and i care

i care enough to savour every moment

to appreciate time passing through

not passing by

to live

because the sun will rise

and we were made to enjoy it

i will not become hopeless for the world

because once i do there is no way for me to change it

so i keep hope in my pockets with my house keys

things will work out

or we will make them

make eye contact with the moon through bus windows

find a muse that is more than a person in your head who does not exist

stick lit matches into untouched snow

stop writing to be a poet

start writing to remember

never stop

realise that suffering is not the only way to make art

accept that you will suffer anyway

stay up all night staring at your ceiling mourning lives you never lived

find out why you bite

figure out how to talk to your loneliness

master the art of drowning your thoughts in cold sunrises

decompose to become dandelions and daffodils

rejoice in the fact that humanity is not alone

feel your eyes dialate

discover a passion so strong that people feel it when they look at you

abandon your fear of looking stupid

get back to being happy

i want to cover myself in go away green

and sit in an empty bathtub in a dry field while the sun sets

i want to remember that day when we rode our bikes to the park

and spent hours lying on your bed quilt on the grass looking at old photos

sorry for the tears in your eyes

I wish they were mine

sorry for the day i left you and cried

even though i chose it

sorry that i cant be the hero in your story

and i have to be the damsel in distress instead

im sorry that nobody can figure out how i feel

and im sorry i wont tell them

most of all I'm sorry that one of us has to leave

theres no other option

thats the story

im sorry that its me

but everyone is moving forward

even if one day you wake up and we don't speak the same language

so we never speak again

i will move forward with my back pocket full of sounds and smells of youth

the day at the river in your mums mini convertible

when we pointed at the full moon and we laughed

and we didn't even think

"this will be over soon"

and we didn't even worry about the cut on your knee in the river water

i carried her on my shoulders and you sat on your paddle board

i get this dream that we are older

that im telling you about my life and suddenly i wake up

and i scratch ugly letters into my notebook

before i rip out the pages

what is adolescence if not leaving and being left

just

maybe leave your pencil case in my life

so you have to come back to get it

we are not going to war

put on your nice shoes and your favourite suit and tie

climb into that backseat and drive away from me

i will wave at you until the car disappears

then sink my teeth into my arm

sorry for the lousy metaphors

sorry for all the crying

down the street a mother is tucking her son into bed again

she checks on him all night, on the same night, years before and tonight

although he left home years ago

floorboards creak in bulldozed homes and the village is a graveyard of lives and memories

a family dining table turns into firewood

an heirloom vase becomes sand

we are only going forwards

we are never going back

grief can consume you and time can rip your bones apart

but remember

we are never going back

so sit on the sofa in your grandmother's house on your wedding day

and look through old photos

trace your fingers over the faces of best friends and confidants

and then walk away

again