Spilled Writing - Blog Posts

There's a girl with my name, we don't look the same but we both huddle under covers when it rains. There's a girl who is almost my age, yet we have the same moon sign and we always forget the time. There's a girl reading what I write who comments every night and I can only hope that life treats you kindly, this girl will one day be in the ground and so will I, but I hope as you age you'll shed those debilitating fears that hold you back and hopefully we'll have lived a life of joy and mostly happy tears.

Me waiting for life to throw me a plot twist, because it seems my main canon event is being a depressed lonely woman/person in her 20s who lays in bed every day and just ......waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and for what? I couldn't tell you, probably waiting to evolve or wake up to a more hopeful tomorrow.

Hope wins every time the sun peaks over the horizon after a long dark night, it softens the day and baths the ground, it warms the air and we breath easier and maybe our souls uncurl a little from that protective crouch we've grown used to, maybe we let our limbs loosen, maybe we let hope sink into our skin, maybe we let it melt our misery from within.

I drag this hope in hand

I pull it along

Shouldering past

all of my mistakes

I hold it up to the sunlight

I call it radience

I don't let go