Two Girls Holding Hands

Two girls holding hands

Making big plans

To move to a new city

And get a pink-nosed cat

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Two girls holding hands

Looking up at the stars

Planning to leave a trail

Of daisies and roses.

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Dreaming

I’m dreaming
Waiting
For my story to unfold
Limbo can feel eternal

I’m reaching for distant galaxies
But what if I bring myself with me?
What if nothing changes?
I need more than camouflage

But I’m hiding
I need more than bandages
But my wounds
Keep the memories alive

Unfamiliar places
With unfamiliar faces
Unwritten chapters
I wait for my ever after.

Thoughts on 24

Walking1

I’ll be 25 in six months. I read somewhere that when you turn 25, that’s when your brain transitions more into adulthood, or something along those lines. And I can kind of see that. I feel like I’m at a point where I’m still wanting to experiment, while also looking for constants. The truth is though, being in your twenties is hard. I see this as a decade of my life that’s one big experiment. It’s filled to the brim with failure, and it’s filled with the illusions of what you think your life should look like.

By 24, lots of people in the boomer generation were married, buying their first house, and having babies. At least, that’s how it seems. If my math is correct, my parents were 25 and 27 when they got married, and less than a year later I was born. So, by that standard, I still “have time” to figure things out. Right?

Honestly, by thirty I’ll probably be single. If I’m lucky, I’ll live in a shoe box apartment in Brooklyn, and if I’m really lucky I’ll have a cat.

The thing I hate about being in my twenties is that this is the youngest I’m ever going to be, while also being independent and old enough to do anything I want. But I can’t even enjoy it because I’m too stressed about having a career, AND a relationship, AND a car, AND exercising/ eating healthy, AND earning degrees, AND having an apartment, traveling, etc. Not to mention wanting to be happy πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚

I’ll be the first to admit I get stressed because I try to do everything at once. But maybe the truth is, we can’t expect ourselves to do and have all of those things at the same time, can we? In high school and college, the only thing I really truly had to worry about was school. There may have been jobs and skills to build on the side, but school was the one thing that was really important. It was the top priority for my time.

After graduating, it’s like everything becomes the top priority. At least that’s how I feel. Suddenly, work, relationships, and everything else needs to be number one. It’s like everything you want in life is part of a Jenga tower, and if you don’t get one thing quite right, the whole tower (i.e- your whole life), will come crumbling down.

Of course, that’s not really how life works. People I know in their 50s, 40s, and even 30s are either married or not, they have kids or they don’t, they live in their own house, or they don’t. I’m not saying people don’t stress when they’re older, or that they don’t get bummed out about not having things they want, but I do feel like there’s less pressure.

In your 20s, people want to know how you’re using that degree you just got. They want to know if you’re dating if you’re single, or if you’re gonna marry the person you’re dating, or if you and your spouse are gonna have kids, or if you’re gonna breast feed the kids you already have, etc, etc, etc. It’s endless. If you don’t have a job, people want to know if you are looking. If you’re earning a degree, they want to know what you’ll do with it. It’s like being a young adult gives everyone permission to watch you under a microscope, and to make sure your decisions and answers align with whatever can make them the most comfortable.

I always thought my twenties would have a sense of adventure, but instead, it just feels like a long climb toward stability. Now that I’m halfway to twenty-five, it just makes me think. I don’t want to spend the rest of this decade feeling stressed and sad and inadequate. I don’t want it to pass me by while I’m drowning in job applications or worried about being “forever alone.”

But unfortunately, as much as I want to live my life to the fullest, I don’t really know how. I want to do what makes me happy, but it doesn’t always feel that simple. I’ve learned the hard way that no one but you cares if you’re in a lane that makes you unhappy. You have to fight for that on your own. And sometimes that fight is exhausting, or it has to wait.

The past five years have been transformative. I’ve been through a lot, accomplished a lot, and learned so much. It hasn’t all been failure and sadness, but it can feel that way at times. I remember the anxious times more than I remember the good times.

I want the next five years to be better. I hope they are. I hope happiness can be less elusive.

Time To Rest

Take some time to rest

I know you’ve tried your best

You’ve made it through hard days

You’ve figured out the ways

.

That you can make some sunshine

By digging through the mine

To break through all the rough

To find diamonds that are tough

.

They glisten in your hand

And others may not understand

The little hope you’ve found

In places tiny lights abound

.

A tiny bit of hope

Brings you to climb upon the slope

That leads you to a better day

This bit of light is here to stay

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That guides you when the night returns

Your hope, something so soft that burns

You know that you will be okay

For now, please rest, your light will stay.

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#poetry

 

Open Door

Sometimes a door is opened

The lock is broken, it waits for you

But you’re just not sure if you

Want to go through it. So you

.

Stay still. Hoping that an answer

Will fall to you the way snow falls

From the sky. Blessing you with a

Blanket of confidence. But that

.

Doesn’t happen. Instead, you breathe

You look at the door and wonder, what

Will happen if I go through? What will

Happen if I don’t? Where else would I go?

.

You make your choice and explore what

Is beyond the door, the way Lucy goes

Through the wardrobe to Narnia. Perhaps

Finding something great, or terrible, or both.

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#poetry