It’s mad how comfortable you can feel around people you’ve only shared a handful of days with.
Europe’s been the perfect playground,
Australia I’m coming for you.
Here’s to the stories to weave in yours,
and arms to fit in
I thought that organizing my days in to-do lists would’ve made it look much clearer,
Accepting what it is that makes me, me, and water it
Throw me a bone,
Don’t be scared of what you don’t already know.
Sometimes, a sunrise and two days of long walks and a plate of pasta and mugs of coffee and the sun warming your bones can turn into the softest birthday gift.
A tiny memo saying that it’s okay if stumble, that it’s fine to not be too hard on yourself.
But for some reason, I hold tight to all trivial excuses and lighthearted talks, stupid water wings I insist to wear not to go deep.
Legs crossed under a table too tiny for my uncoordinated manners, following stars calculated to spans