pensive 🌱 acorn

I am putting in the work - trying to bring compassion into how I view and unpack things for myself but there is such a vast disconnect with everything that I feel and how I prioritise self care and in the demands of day to day routine and a desire to grow and nurture and continue to discover myself and I am feeling just so overwhelmed.

I used to have such a confidence in myself but I chose to wear a mask that I believed was figurative but was quite actually a literal manifestation. I became that person and gave no space to who I really am.

And along the way I still found her - still found myself despite it all and everytime I would get close to her I would fall short.

I would tear wounds apart and let the feelings flow - I would dredge up every painful memory into the light and I would find some new state and version of myself. The months would pass me by - years and before I know it the person in the mirror and the version of myself became strangers - I was stuck in the last “breakthrough” identity and had become something else entirely.

I don’t know how to do this.

I don’t have the energy and drive and stamina to continue to show up and I don’t know how to hold on.

I put my energy into remembering the way you like the world around you.

And for me - expressing love is sitting in the big lights and laughing at jokes I will never understand because it makes you smile.

Snug in a worn and cropped hoodie, I’ll nuzzle into your chest, just listening to your words turning warm and fuzzy and the soft patter of your heart.

Lock your fingers in-between mine as I trace sleepy lines into your thighs.

Kiss my head while I loosen my chest, breathing as if it’s the first I’ve caught all day.

It is not in the way that I casually give none-committal responses to the world when I am barely keeping my mind in check socialising.

It is not in the way that a coworker will cover your ass.

It is not in the way that I tell a pair of sparkling eyes that the sun will indeed be here in the morning.

I mean that I have come to know that you need a second set of hands when you are chewing on the next move.

I mean that I will happily reach something on a higher shelf, or learn to stop putting the glass you prefer just out of reach.

I’ll be patient when you ask for my attention and when you go to bed and I’ll await your finished thought.

I order an extra potato-taco because I know you love them.

And in thick or thin, through high or low I want to make sure you know that you are safe.

Instead of holding it together I should be busy dreaming. Why is this the time of night where the walls are paper thin and silence feels strangely forbidden?

How many ways can I read into something - it’s supposed to be simple: you want it go do it.

And the kindness that is shared just trips and stumbles in the dark and everything is threatening at night.

Please listen to what they say instead of what the world taught you to hear.

Tell me that I am enough and that tomorrow will still be here even though I’m falling apart.

Wrap me up in tender kisses, gentle whispers and silent understanding.