today i left my house for the first time in what felt like two lifetimes.
the door felt foreign on my warm, anticipating fingertips and i was afraid;
the sky was dark because during the winter, the sun goes to sleep earlier and we close our curtains earlier.
everywhere around me, the earth was awash in soft moonlight;
my bare feet touched the cold grass, dipping into the moon's glow like vessels in a pale green ocean and because i felt like i didn't really want to keep going in this vast ocean anymore, i laid down, curled my body into a ball so my legs touched my chest and i could breathe hot, thawing air onto my shivering knees, and i imagined fireflies dancing around my head singing campfire songs.
when it was still dark and the sun was still sensing the ripe hours of dawn, i opened my frozen, daydreaming eyelids and uncurled my toes and stretched my arms out to the disappearing stars.
perhaps, this place is worth staying for, after all. i say. perhaps, and i sit with knees tucked in, staring at the bleeding, gloaming stars and the précis of the sunrise, perhaps living is more worthwhile than dying.
—love, lana.
sorry i was gone for so long. :')
YOU ARE READING
A Girl Grows
Poesia❝ only the moon remembers her now. ❞ the journey of a growing girl, manifested in the words of a book. copyright all rights reserved. may have references/details to mature themes. recommended age; 13 or older. may be triggering. reader discretio...