i like trees

Sadness intertwining with fairy lights, a wreath above my aching head

Listening to the conversations of strangers, spying on their words, creating their lives in my mind

Fathers calling wives, making plans to pick up children, sporty daughters wearing headbands tight around ponytails, tanned sons wearing flip flops and summer shirts

Dog leashes connecting hands to hands, reservations at mediocre and frequented restaurants, jewelry sliding along her aging yet happy wrists, the veins jumping out of his skinny legs, laughter

I’ve lost the meaning of family, coming home to homeness among people who I share my blood with

My family is not something of togetherness; separate entities who are all something vastly different to me, I am something not the same to them

Independence and I are strongly familiar with each other, the fear of one’s parent, growing up too soon, disapproval

When I’m walking alone under the fierce sun with the sky vast above me and my feet confident below me, I thank fate for my separation, my independence, the life that I have cultivated on my own, those who bore me foggy figures beneath my fingertips

But when I’m sitting in the corners of waiting rooms, lobbies, offices, scrunched up and closed in on myself, glancing at the strangers who are living around me, I long and miss and yearn for something that’s no longer mine

Chlorine, ponytails, Friday night dinner, seeing faces among the crowd, comfort, arguments, asking questions, innocence, the pet store, driving on leather seats, thunderstorms, movies at home

White walls enveloping me, large windows, cold fingers, spiderwebs everywhere, tired eyelids, bloody flowers blooming beneath my skin

I am 17 and 9 months, I am no longer a child, but I will always be a child of someone else

And I sometimes crave the smells, dark rooms, soft carpet, and glinting sunlight of feeling like a daughter

Fairy lights curling around my fingers, my hair getting caught on small hot bulbs, Saturday night in the city down the street, outside my window, and I am home alone, confused and young and curious and tired

  • Co-worker: what are you eating?
  • Me: oh, just some yoghurt
  • Co-worker: hang on, that's not vegan
  • Me: sorry, vegan yoghurt
  • Co-worker: alright, we get it, you're vegan, calm down

I ran out of money and I really don’t know how and I’ve literally been living on clif bars, oatmeal, and/or bagels (also I had a couple tablespoons of peanut butter left in my jar) for the past four days and I just want real food so badly

I get money on Friday though so after tomorrow I can eat

I want vegan pizza omg or just a piece of fresh fruit

 Let people feel the weight of who you are and let them deal with it. 
By John Eldridge  (via awelltraveledwoman)

(Source: purplebuddhaproject, via awelltraveledwoman)