Bigger Things

She is sunshine and rain in one.

Her smile could light up any darkness,

Except the one her sadness creates.

She is plants on the veranda,

And smoke turning the afternoon sun a blood red.

She is your favourite book with the corners folded,

And the stuffed bear from your childhood that you still keep on your bed.

She is the grazed knees of childhood,

And river water on sunburnt shoulders.

She is sunshine.

She is tears shed in the corner of a coffee shop,

And fingers rubbing eyes under glasses.

She is panic attacks in parks,

And 10 cents short for the bus ticket home.

She is the death of an admired celebrity discovered over Facebook,

And the crash of your first car.

She is rain.

She lights candles all around her,

In attempts to relight the burning flame inside her,

That he put out when he left.

She loses herself in books where the girl always gets her guy,

Even in times when love shouldn’t matter.

She fights and screams but only to reclaim

A small amount of control of her life.

She is a girl left behind,

And a friend who deserves more time than she is given.

She is a bike ride I keep meaning to go on.

She is a book I should have continued months ago.

She is a half empty journal that I’ve had for years,

But keep replacing when there is no need.

She is a plant in a pot too small,

She is ready to move on to bigger things.

17/3/16

When I’m sitting on a beach with you watching the sunset, and I look into your eyes just as the yellow hues from the fading light hit you right in the face. Your brown eyes suddenly have all the colours of Summer and Autumn and Spring mixed in them. There are reds around the outside, looking like the falling leaves that get stuck in my hair. Then there are browns and yellows of the bark of the trees that I spent my childhood summers climbing. As I work further in there are small specks of green and blue, showing the ocean and the waves that we first grew close to each other in. In the very centre, past the red love, the yellow happiness, the brown longing, the blue lust and the green safety, right in the middle is the colour black, the deepest darkest black. The black that holds untold stories and future memories. The black that holds all the stars in the universe. The black of the hole that I fell into when I fell for you.

From the Archives.

A Crimson Care Package

You shine like the sun and all the stars.

You carry your world on your shoulders, with your head held high you try to keep hidden the way it’s weighing you down.

Your love for God is so empowering

Your presence is that of soft spring winds passing through open windows and satin curtains.

Your laughter sounds like a soft melody plucked on a guitar floating off toward the stars from a group of smiles scattered around a campfire wrapped in blankets and love.

I worry for you and against my better judgements, do nothing.

I remember the first time I saw you, sitting on the bottom bunk of a dorm in the place where I grew up. And then we grew up more. We spent so many hours together, I remember drawing little animals on each other and taking endless photos. I remember the games we won and the many games we epically lost. And I am so thankful for all the little moments and inside jokes we shared (along with Nara). Thank you for all dish-co’s and all the quiet time chats and all the fun we had on outings, especially the reminders that we can’t have any idea where anything is in Mandurah because we don’t live there.

I also just want to say thanks for one more thing. I know that I would not have as many friends as I do now if it weren’t for you. You may not realise, but you became friends with our “Serps Squad” before I felt comfortable even speaking to them. But you made sure I was part of that group too, you made making friends easy for the first time in my life.

So I thought it was about time I told you what colours fill my head when you are around.

Your smile is a soft, rose pink that, when shown, is enough to lighten anyone’s heart. It encourages me to know that life isn’t all bad and there is always hope, even if it is sometimes hidden behind scowls and a fear that you’re upset with me.

You move like the colour blue. Your run incites excitement and energy in me and watching you dance is always enough to create pure joy. The sky would envy how blue you are when you’re moving.

Your insecurities are draped in golden yellow light. You spend all this time disguising them in something beautiful but you fail to realise that they were sparkling gold long before you even noticed them. This makes me want to spend hours dispelling every insecurity you have.

You my dear are all these colours and so much more. But behind it all, the colour I think of most as you is held in your love. It is the deepest cherry Red. It sends feelings of summer and apples and roses in a vase on the windowsill. It shines through in your love for everyone around you, sometimes despite better judgment. In the way you love God and the way you love to see others love God.

Don’t ever stop spreading this beautiful red love all around you.

A hand on the door handle and the other reaching for the perfume. the smell of Versace fills the room as she grasps her bag to leave. There are a dozen roses waiting for her at the door and her eyes smile as she notices them. She walks out into the evening air and the setting sun lights up her golden curls. This girl has longed for love for eternities and just now it shows how much. She is finally filled with self love, love that her God gave her to spread to all the corners of the earth. She smiles, for no one but herself this time.

I think of you daily and send love and prayers to you.

~ Zee xx

My Oldest Friend

I haven’t thought of you in weeks, haven’t spoken to you in months, haven’t seen you in years, yet somehow you’re standing in my bedroom right now and I’m opening up to you. Painfully and reluctantly yes, but filled with so much relief that I haven’t felt in many moons.

A small red flower blooming by my ankle. One you placed there even though I told you I don’t want them anymore. Not from you. But you smiled and insisted and handed me another one. You mesmerised me and I smiled, you’re so good to me. I didn’t realise how much I missed you until you were stood here in front of me.

These flowers you’ve given me are attracting butterflies and suddenly my room is filled with such beauty that only I am able to see. I know eventually it will all turn to dust but I can appreciate it while it’s here. It’s going to be harder than last time to clean it all out. But maybe I don’t need to. Maybe just because no one else can see the beauty in it doesn’t mean I can’t embrace it. Maybe a drought is not the best thing for me anymore.

Maybe we should celebrate your return with a fresh bottle of vodka.

It still feels just as good as it did two years ago.

I Hope… (pt 1)

I hope she loves you.

I hope she’s the kind of girl who would fly halfway across the world just to see your eyes. I hope she writes about you, notebooks filled with nothing but words of you, letters in envelopes never sent because she can tell in person. I hope she makes you smile with small midnight texts and the warmest hugs where all you want is to stay in her arms forever, with jokes only you two understand and just thoughts of her. I hope she sings with you, in the car on the way to the grocery store, on the train with all your friends, in the ocean, and in church, and at night when you can’t sleep. I hope she makes you strong, that you show her your vulnerabilities and she turns them into your strengths, that she encourages your dreams and is always there beside you. I hope she sends you pictures when she goes out without you and I hope you spend all night waiting to see her beautiful face. I hope she gives you everything you deserve and never leaves you wondering where you went wrong. I hope you spend your whole life with her.

And I hope you love her too.

“Life is pain. We’re all in pain, all the time.”

“There are other things this universe has to offer, light. Life. Touch. Sensation. The way you are all made of the same pieces, the same fragments of stardust, and yet you are all so different, all so alone.”

“You think being alone is a good thing?”

“There is strength in individuality.”