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I’m writing about moving again, and when I write about moving, I really mean beginning. I’m beginning again.

Schuyler

Meet me where happiness doesn’t feel like a false spring.
SCHUYLER

Fake Feeling Happiness Myself Spring
I’ll craft a haven that that cradles every joy and sorrow, but doesn’t hold them to keep.
SCHUYLER

Craft Happiness Hold Myself Sorrow
In a dream, my fingertips pulse. I’ll be patient in my blooming. In a dream, I let time pass through open hands.
SCHUYLER

Bloom Dreams Hands Healing Myself Open Patience Self Love Time
Take me back to the evergreen trees; to the sunlight through the leaves, the bending ferns and fronds. The pitter of the rain, the smooth rocks sleeping under moss. Take me back to the life I know before this body.
SCHUYLER

Body Known Leaves Life Myself Sunlight Tree
I want to wade into the water on the sidewalk, crawl out of this feeling without giving it a name. Take a lighter to love’s sticky edges so its sadness isn’t caught in my throat.
SCHUYLER

Catch Myself Name Sadness Water
I know I could be an astronomer of this swooning.
SCHUYLER

Known Myself
Hold me here, where I feel less like a stranger to my own laughter. Where it’s easier to believe things happen for a reason or maybe, at least, out of a thousand winding roads my life might take, I will still find one that fits me.
SCHUYLER

Feeling Hold Life Oneself Reason Road Stranger
I never lose pieces of me, I just gain new understanding.
SCHUYLER

Lose Myself Perspective Pieces Understand
People have been washed away by less. I’ll take every step gently. So often, you can’t tell the rush of a riptide until you’re already at sea.
SCHUYLER

Myself People Sea Wash
We’re in spring and I have learned how to be gentle and sharp; strong bark on budding trees. Hold out your hands. I’ll leave a pink kiss and a pocket knife.
SCHUYLER

Hands Learning Leaving Myself Sharp Spring
I’m writing about moving again, and when I write about moving, I really mean beginning. I’m beginning again.
SCHUYLER

Beginning Deep Move Myself Writing
My love lives in my cheeks – gives me away by the first smile. all the lines from years spent laughing, warm with extra freckles in the summer; a poker face that doesn’t keep once my knees fold.
SCHUYLER

Face Live Love Myself Smile Summer
I’m thinking about how early the spring flower buds rise up from the grass; just barely on winter’s heels. How uncomfortable, how cold the soil must be, still half-frosted, when the roots start to take shape.
SCHUYLER

Comfortable Flower Myself Shape Start Thinking
I descend into an unopened sky, the ocean floor, the final embrace of a graveyard. Find your fill of me before my blue pales like a sour moon.
SCHUYLER

Floor Grave Moon Ocean Open Sky Yourself
I’d get lost in this green, ferns leaning against the trees, soil stuck to my feet, never dream of finding my way back again.
SCHUYLER

Dreams Lost Myself Tree Way
Some mornings, I like to live like a secret; wake as quietly as I can, slip out of bed without so much as a wrinkle.
SCHUYLER

Live Morning Myself Quiet Secret Wake Up

I’m writing about moving again, and when I write about moving, I really mean beginning. I’m beginning again.

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I’m writing about moving again, and when I write about moving, I really mean beginning. I’m beginning again.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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