Returning from a trip always feels a little odd. For me, at least. I think it’s because… while I’m away I enter a parallel life of sorts, where I’m the same person but in a different place, doing and seeing different things. I mean, I wouldn’t usually get up at 5:45am and watch the sunrise…
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I turned 22 a week ago now. In the lead up to my birthday and for some time after, I always find myself reflecting on the year that’s passed and what I’ve learned and how I’ve changed. Initially when someone asks me ‘do you feel any different?’, the answer is most often ‘no’. Because I…
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Recently, I feel that I have started to learn the importance of other people. I have found myself re-evaluating my stance on friendships and relationships. Not necessarily with specific people, but just in general. For a while, I was always coming back to the thought that I was better off on my own. I refused…
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I think it’s important to realise that life only happens one day at a time, and I can’t snap my fingers and magically end up ‘where I want to be’ in the blink of an eye. I feel it’s important to acknowledge that everyone moves at their own pace, and I am exactly where I’m meant to be at this moment in time.
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I think my skull would rattle if you shook it –
filled with an assortment of past things.
I’ll pluck and keep them as trinkets,
souvenirs, mementos of has been.
I fear losing thoughts, and days,
so I pocket reminders of each place I go
(in heart, in mind, in body, in soul).
I awoke with my head submerged in water,
ears blocked, the world locked out of my perception.
There’s a knock on a window somewhere but I can’t tell which one
this muffled echo is coming from – a pathetic attempt at a sound.
I’ve lost touch with my senses, like they’re running out of battery,
confused with each other, I can feel sounds but not hear them.
Anything can sound like a voice if you need to hear one –
kitchen white noise – the refrigerator humming,
creaks in the plumbing are less scary if you long for just someone
(anyone?) to hear you (maybe I heard footsteps on a creaky floor).
I shed dead skin in a trail
of diary entires and old poems,
snaking through my life’s path –
the fossils of the human heart,
footprints, preserved in stone.
my cheeks flush easily,
outsides matching my insides,
brimming with feelings of
pink – blissfully enchanted,
rosy and love-filled,
We blink silence back and forth,
Secrets beclouded by our eyes,
A tightrope tension between lips,
Or hearts, together we’re tongue-tied.
Lauren Kathleen 