I am the girl who falls asleep as the moon climbs the sky, hides away and doesn’t want to wake up at times. I get lost in dreams of tarnished poetry and rotting hopes, fingers tracing the black lines of a sketch. I love myself as I move along the lines I put down on the paper that I poured my heart out upon…..picking out the parts I like best.
I am the girl who wanders the aisles of the book store. I curl up in a corner with Hemingway, touching the pages like a lover. I smell the ink because I am the girl who thinks book smell of faith and love. I tuck myself between each syllable, climbing down the commas and resting on the vowels.
I am the girl who watches the ocean with arms wrapped around my legs. I wince as the saltwater cleanses my scars that I am still not ready to face just yet. I build sand castles during high tide and run into the waves fully dressed. I breathe in the starfish and shells so that when I come apart, at least my insides will be beautiful.
And, I am the girl tearing apart the dictionary because I cannot find a definition that works. Ripping up words to create a collage of meanings that aren’t worth any thing. I try to fall back to sleep again to get tangled up in a Beardsley image. To drip down through the image so I can find hope once more. To feel beautiful again.
i’m the girl that’s a messy dreamer.
i’m the girl that’s a mess.
i’m the girl that’s–