writing down the first thoughts that come out

as a little game

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋⊹☾⋆⁺₊🎧✩°｡

when i was nineteen i’d listen
to Jeff Buckley on burnt CDs and
drive through the English countryside.
smoking a spliff with the boy
i loved [because they don't do joints
in England] as rolling emerald
hills dotted my peripherals.

my smile stretched across the
island like i’d never been
hurt. thought we’d never
grow older, or apart. but Mother
Time works the graveyard shift and
both, of course, happened. and it's true
that we don't ever really know how
young we are. someday i’ll look back
on my current self - this exact version
and i'll think GOD she was young!!
and beautiful! and she didn’t know it
in her bones!

i try and pause the clock just
to catch my breath but time is pasta
water through a sieve spiralling
down the drain i still need to
deep clean. there are imprints
left behind though, the love letters
and photo albums and the way a song
splits the spacetime continuum. the love
stays etched into our tendons. all of
the scars, the softness, still there. love has
a way of inching her way back
inside, picking the locks

over and over again. i’d like to think
that i would still get stoned and
speed past castles in a little Fiat,
believing that both love and youth
are forever, simply
because they
are golden.

view from my bedroom window in England

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

thank you so much for taking the time to read this! <3 you can also find me in these other portals:

♥ instagram
♥ tiktok
♥ youtube
♥ goodreads
♥ my books on amazon
♥ my website (poetry books & prints)

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