remember red cheeks and chocolate-stained smiles. remember summer vacations spent tripping over tree branches and landing in mud—your mother wasn’t happy when you stained her white carpet; remember what it was like to fall asleep at ten p.m. without contemplating numbness and your lifespan in comparison to a star’s. remember the flowers that grew between the cracks of your driveway. remember believing that dandelions were flowers and that they’d look more beautiful on your kitchen table than your neighbour’s front lawn. remember boys who learned your last name before the constellation of scars on the inside of your thigh. remember what it felt like to fall in love in the dormitory of a girl who asked to sketch the veins in your wrists. remember 3 a.m. meteor showers with your sister. remember her smile. remember her laugh. remember every time she forgave you when you didn’t deserve it. remember what it feels like to cherish every part of your body like it was worth more than the money you need to pay your rent. remember thinking that dragons were more dangerous than the fire at the ends of your nerves. remember promising your mother that you would take care of yourself; love yourself the way she has always loved you.
remember what it feels like to want to wake up.
…
[kind of a sequel to ‘forget’ from seeing stars but I don’t really know, ily though]
