i lie in bed as i stretch in the center of the queen.
i feel this overwhelming soft and relaxing sensation
against the soft sheets and the coolness on my legs.
it’s the same feeling when you had a long day
and slipping into the sheets
is the same as flying up to the clouds.
with each deep breathe i inhale.
my muscles relax
and i think about my childhood.
a million tears flow down my face.
it happens over and over.
did I do something wrong?
what can i do to make it right?
where were you?
do i even matter?
i remember exactly how you smelled.
you spoke right up to my face
and the warm air from your mouth
coffee and cigarettes.
you said you loved me,
but you died anyway.
i grew up walking around the city.
that smelled just like you did.
and i feel relieved.
because for a moment.
i am brought back to my childhood
where you still existed.
and i cry.
because my relief
comes with grief
will i ever be ok?
how many chances do i get?
a poem i felt inspired to write. the theme of this poem is fiction and this is not a story of me.
however, i feel like there are a lot of us who
are still understanding ourselves and trying to make sense of our surroundings.
i think many of us have made mistakes and the world judged forcefully.
i recently watched this documentary on a young actress
and i couldn’t help but feel for her.