I want to learn how to sit in solitude, again.
I want to re-learn how to be alone.
How to lie comfortably in silence,
surrounded by my emotions,
uninterrupted in my thoughts.

I want to learn how to stand in solitude, again.
I want to re-learn how not to be lonely.
How to rise confidently in seclusion,
grounded in my surroundings,
unintimidated by the day ahead.

I know what it is to be lonely.
But I also know that loneliness is not alone.
And I want to be alone, again.
Or rather, I want to re-know what it is to be alone,
but not lonely.

I want to not miss you so badly when you are gone.


march 18, 2017

Dear Self,

You cannot take back the last few months. They have happened, and you are in this place. Please allow yourself forgiveness. These last few months do not mean anything about your character, or your worthiness of love. They have been a muddled time, a time of hibernation, of confusion.

You do not have the answers but you have made a decision – to move to New Mexico. Now, you must wait til then, patiently and impatiently. With kindness in your heart – not only for others, but for yourself.

Do not despair. You are vibrant. You are loved. You are smart and kind.

You are deserving of happiness, if you allow it to enter your bloodstream.



They like to ask me why I have changed
so I explain that I have returned.

I have always been
Stained glass
throwing odd shapes of colored light onto
wooden floors
to stacks of books, both new and worn;
And I have always been
Wet grass
sparkling under the glow of the moon in
the dark night
crickets chirping, warm breeze blowing;
And I have always been
humming by lazily in the sun so
felt not seen
swinging back and forth, my eyes closed.

They sometimes ask me what I mean
so I put it in simpler terms.

I have always been
choosing to listen more than be heard;
reading to learn as much as I can;
striving to know the world around me;
wanting to understand myself most.

They have only known
Riotous nights,
not quiet mornings;
Strong opinions,
not changing my mind;
City living,
not wildflower bliss.

And I cannot apologize for coming home to myself again.