“He is exactly the poem I wanted to write.”
— Mary Oliver
When I was 7, I wanted to be 8. When I was 8, I wanted to be 12. When I turned 12, I just wanted to be 18. Then after that I stopped wanting to be older…I feel like I’ve spent my whole life so far wishing it all away. Always wishing I was older, wishing I was somewhere else, wishing I could remember and I wishing I could forget too. Wishing I hadn’t ruined so many good things because I was scared or bored.
I cannot simply stare at an empty paper without my pen bleeding on it.
I loved the smell of ocean water. Salt always smells like memory.