I want to say things like ‘fear nothing’ and ‘there is nothing to fear’.
I want to shout, ‘it’s me, you guys! it’s really truly me!’.
I want to art so hard motherfuckers wanna fine me.
I want to stare so hard and so long the sun starts to blind me.
say ‘fly higher’, say ‘dive deeper’, say
‘don’t pick the scabs’ but also
‘scratch the itch’.
Spring is in the air, and on the wind I remember
that party on the hill, surrounded by strangers and thick teen sex
pot smoke sending terror into my little girl guts
and alcohol smoking into my grown girl chest
staring into the darkness and feeling the new vibrations of loneliness
of wanting a person to press between me and the night
of feeling stranded in my own body, the wholeness of youth run away
later, lying quiet in a flimsy green tent
pretending not to hear the awkward wet kisses
and hushed hot breathing from the two teens beside me
feeling the stars fill me up bright as day
and empty as the universe