Dear old friend

Do you still remember the girl I used to be?

The one who wore dreams like glitter, who believed magic hid in every corner of the world?

She still lives inside me 

 I think you’d recognize her.

But life .. as it does, has rearranged her edges.

⁂⁂⁂⁂

Sometimes I feel like I’m folding in on myself..

Like the world is too loud and my dreams are growing smaller just to survive.

When we were younger, I believed I could be everything.

A poet, a traveler, a dancer in the rain, a girl who writes her own story with no fear.

And you my friend .. you fed those dreams with your wild imagination.

Your stories lit fires in the cold corners of my soul.

We’d lay on the grass and name clouds after things we’d never seen,

Like freedom, or Paris, or love that didn’t end in aching.

But life is different now.

I wake up to bills and unanswered messages,

To mirrors that don’t always reflect the girl I want to see.

Some mornings, I feel like I’m made of fog 

And I miss the way you used to remind me I was made of stardust *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

I guess what I’m trying to say is… I miss you.

Not just the sound of your voice or the way you used to laugh before you said something silly,

But the you that saw me.

The way you looked at the world like it was soft and full of wonder,

And you let me see it that way too.

I’m still that dreamy girl. Just quieter now.

More tired.

A little afraid to hope too big.

But something in me still glows when I think of you.

Still whispers: write the story, take the trip, fall in love like it’s your last chance.

Because I remember how you believed 

In me ..

And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough to keep going.

If you still have some of that imagination left 

the kind that used to paint galaxies in the sky 

can you send me a little piece of it?

Just enough to help me dream again ..