A Little Bit of WonderlandHer name was Alyssa, and when she was nine, her mother built her Wonderland. After being raised on a healthy diet of Charles Dickens, Enid Blyton and J.M. Barrie, it seemed like the natural course of action. She created it out of paper, each scene indispensably, indisputably perfect in its imperfection.And she did it because Alyssa was terrified of the idea of falling through a rabbit hole, into a place that allows magic only when you are confused. Mothers do the most impractical, exhausting things to show how much they love their children. It seemed a pity that it was this very effort that kept Alyssa up all night, staring at the paper people like they were coming to get her.(If Alyssa’s mother knew, she would have spent all her time trying to explain to the little girl that it wasn’t just paper people she should be afraid of.)-God appeared to have a sense of humour when little Alice became Alyssa’s best friend. She lives across the street, her hair always
Teaching Summer to BreatheSummer will always remind me of hot, sweltering nights spent drinking sangria, through the dripping fairy lights of your bedroom window. A sticky, starry sky looked back at us, the glow of the moon almost golden in the heat. Fourteen meant we weren't growing up fast enough and a liquor cabinet key seemed to hold the answer to that problem.You taught me how to drink that night.(You also showed me how beautiful it was to just hold your breath till your head spins and reality seems like it is going to fade further and further away.)-Six summers ago I met a boy who liked to tell me how much like summer I was. He was big boned and thin skinned and the first time I told him he wasn't mine to keep, he left handprints on my skin that reminded you of a canvas covered in autumn leaves that you saw in New York. Then you proceeded to break every single window in his house (Yes, even the one in the attic he loved so much.)You taught me how to smile through heartbreak that night.(You
Another Language called EnglishI took your adjectives for granted. There was something about the way you skipped over your 's'es and gleaned over your 'i's and 'e's, that never really made me want to kiss you. You'd sit there with your languid fingers clutching a book that was half finished, and read me words that were completely mispronounced. It would prickle me under my skin and I would grit my teeth, wondering when you would stop. I would never understand the english language you thought you spoke, and your confidence in your own words annoyed me.It was comical when you spoke in front of our friends. Your mistaken pronunciation of the word 'pronunciation' in particular made them giggle. I would stand in a corner, clutching a glass of rum and coke and cringe, flushing in second hand embarrassment. You would smile at me from across the room, and continue with your tangled tongue as though nothing was wrong.I felt sorry for you. But not sorry enough when you took your favourite writing pen from my d
infinite/opposite.being an adult means knowingthat there are things much scarierthan spiders, or snakes, or clowns.the ocean, for one.losing your parents.empty tequila bottles.unanswered questions.waking up, still reachingfor someone who left youa long time ago.--i live like there’s an end for mebecause there is.look,plants will wilt.forests will burn down.eventually, even the stars will burn out.people will come to us.they will touch us. they will hurt us.they may keep us. they may not.but i never hold on too tightbecause when it’s time, my time,i’ll only be letting go.--the heart has valvesthat constantly open and closegiving love, taking love.and my best adviceis to be selfish.know when you’ve had enough.know when you deserve better.close the valves andkeep some love for yourself.know that you are perfecteven if you eat that second cheeseburgerbecause there’s magic in this world.we’re proof of it.--apeirophobiais fear o
Hello Darling.Hello darling.I see you're hiding behind long sleeves.I can see you trying to cover up your "ugly side" with gemstones and lace, with pretty clothes and make up.But, hello darling.You can show me.Hello dear.I see you're pushing away your dinner.I can see you thrusting fingers down your throat into the sink, trying to hide your secret with laughter and smiles.But, hello dear.You can show me.Hello honey.I see you're hiding behind these precious things that the others care so much about.I see you're upset with who you are, in fear that who you are might upset others.I see you're broken, and I see, you're outspoken. You're lost and confused.I see you're trying to hide something.But, hello honey,Hello dear,Hello darling.You can show me.Because I don't care what they say about you.I won't listen.