I'm restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again
I can never walk straight when the stars are out. My boyfriend always laughs at me because we'll be walking somewhere and he'll have to pull me along because I'm so busy staring at the sky I forget to walk.
I think I've always been enchanted by the stars. The twinkling lights know all my secrets, have seen my midnight tears, reminded me of the stardust in my own veins when I threatened to forget it.
Something about them has always seemed vaguely poetic to me, hauntingly beautiful. And during long, sleepless nights when my heart was aching the stars became my companions in the wee hours when the darkness threatened to overtake everything.
I have loved stars too fondly to be fearful of the night
In April I wrote 30 poems in 30 days.
I ended my first year of college, and said some of the hardest goodbyes I've ever had to say
I think I cried more in April than I have any other month this year: in closets and hallways, in the arms of the stars and the arms of the people I love, in malls and concerts and hospital rooms.
April is a strange mix of salty and sweet, of toughness and softness.
It's a month of writing, which also means it's a month of feeling.
Underneath the stars you met me and underneath the stars you left me, I wonder if the stars regret me, I think they'd like me if they only met me, at least you'll go of your own free will
I've been feeling slightly off balance these days. Sometimes I think I'm scared of the dark, other times its the light that leaves me afraid.
I feel the need to find myself again, to hide among poetry and under the night sky until I remember how to breathe, to curl my body around this ache until it subsides into something softer, something tangible.
I had a moment where I was crying earlier and the only thing I was able to say over and over again was "I want to go home."
And I realized in that moment that home didn't mean a place, or even in that instance a person. I think home meant to myself.
I'm ready to come home to myself now, home to the sky and the earth and the water and the fire and the breath.
The stars look like they would take such good care of you