Darling, it’s okay. It’s okay to run out of words sometimes. It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to be not okay. It can’t be peepal and poetry all the time, and even when your skin doesn’t feel real, remember, you are. You are real flesh and bone and it’s okay to bleed.
Darling, you are free. You have a whole year ahead waiting, waiting with unlived days and unread books and unseen places. As long as you can see, smell, listen, taste, touch and feel you can own the world. The world is an oyster at your fingertips, darling, and you can decide what you want to do with it. It’s okay if you don’t want to crack it open. Even dead oysters have secrets and its okay to not want to know. It’s okay if you don’t want to own the world, no one does really, it’s a matter of expression. The world is not really a oyster after all, it is a ball of chaos and it just, is. It exists.
Darling, you are. You exist too.
YOU ARE READING
Arcadia
PoetrySpilled thoughts, letters from no one, stories of another time, another place. - || H.R. : #50 in Poetry ||
