I feel as if I am changing.
Is it possible to be content with yourself?
I am afraid of what I want and who I am and who I am going to be.
I feel as if I maybe have wasted myself.
I feel as if I am growing too quickly.
My grandmother used to sing to me and tell me stories to keep me awake instead of to help me sleep because she missed me.
I feel different.
I am stronger I think.
My hair is gone and my face is bare.
I am going to be grown up soon. I am afraid of that.
I want more than I have but it feels less than what I need.
I printed off pictures of my favorite things and taped them to my wall to make me feel better.
My mom would sing me bye bye blackbird when I was a baby. I was the blackbird.
I have a problem with letting go. I want to work on that.
Everything feels like it’s standing still. I want everything to be moving. I want to be in motion.
For my birthday, I want to spend the day in Snoqualmie, Washington and get a tattoo of a cherub on my forearm.
I want to sing to feel good again, less for sport.
I want to find my yellow rain jacket. I miss it tremendously.
Maybe I will write a book someday.
Maybe I will swim everyday and finally go camping and grow my own fruits and my own vegetables.
Maybe I will be loved one day for my rosy cheeks and salt smelling hair. Maybe I will one day have rosy cheeks and salty smelling hair to love.
Do you think I will one day be in love and one day be loved? At the same time? I can’t see it.
I feel as if my asthma has subsided in its intensity. I feel as if I can breath better.
You are my sunshine, she said to me.
Bye, bye blackbird.