Light and dark.
Space between the stars, we are.

Reflections. Patterns. Places.
Time tricks us into thinking we have more than enough.
To learn. To grow.
To surrender all things you think you know.

Time to leisurely learn
About yourself.
We do not.

We lie to ourselves and think, I’ll deal with that dream, that hope, that better version of me later.
We tuck it away, our tomorrow’s.
For someday. For another day.
Shrugging it off.

I’m the same awkward, eccentric girl I was at thirteen.
Same insecurities, self-judgment, same boring old me, curiously forever doubting myself.

And yet, I am so far off and away from that reality.
I am just me.
Older.
Fucked-up, crazy, and always daydreaming, wishing on a star.

The dress still fits, thirty years later when I no longer have any use for fancy, frilly things.

The light lives between the stars and the dark.
And I’m fine with that, co-existing with both.

I’m forgiving my thirteen year-old-self and am setting her free.
Giving her permission to own her fire and confidence and kindness and moxie.

There is raw diamond, dazzling beauty in stillness, and suffering.
There is a time to shine quietly, effortlessly, and without fanfare.

You are beautiful human, you are one of a kind, a unique.
Raw diamonds and gravel, true grit.

Walkthrough it, this life.
We have no choice but to try.
So find your footing, and dance.
You are starstuff, oxygen, and the miraculous space-traveling between.
The light and the dark.

We are the space between the stars.