Poetry Summer


This summer has been pure poetry. Love, loss, adventure, nostalgia, magic.

I thrive on this stuff – on new faces and familiar places, hotels and humidity and memories – reliving the old and making new.

I was born on the move. I live to love and let go.

She said it right, my mom, how I leave a piece of myself wherever I go…but I also take something with me. This is why I’m always changing, shedding my skin to open new eyes.

I think about regrets, choices and words that haunted me, and I turn a fresh page. To know this – that I had loved with all of me and tried my best and that’s what made it enough – this changes everything.

To live without holding back is often painful; but I’ve learned to not hate myself for the things that make me brave.

This is freedom – to walk humid streets and find no stranger.

This is magic – to see yourself as mystery and flawed and to choose love.

This is living deep. Poetry.

Poetry Summer

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