For the past few months, my notebook has been

too far away.

My head has felt

too heavy.

 

So here is a summary of my year,

for my notebook

and for this publication

and for my peace of mind

and for my artist’s heart

and for my memory:

 

I didn’t grow as much as I thought I would

Or realize as much as I hoped I would

But I guess that’s okay.

There’s always summer

 

and the year after that

and the year after that

and the year after that

and the rest of our lives

for learning

and loving

and wondering about why we are the way that we are

and who put us here

and what we are meant to do

and why it’s hard sometimes

but easier with certain people around us.

There’s always summer to

dress like her

eat like that

feel like It

do those things.

There’s always summer to

breathe in

run fast

lie flat.

There’s always summer to

think

realize

laze.

There’s always summer

and the year after that

and the year after that

and the year after that

and the rest of our lives.

 

Sorting through the backlog takes time.

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