Smoking-greencaterpillar - Until I See You Again

Margaret Atwood, from a poem titled "Not The Moon," featured in Paper Boat: Selected Poems

Jeanette Winterson, from "Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal," publ. in 2011

The amount of reassurance I need is devastating actually and will kill me but sure I’m chill.

forever reminiscing and grieving the girl i could’ve been 🪽

Grow up with me.

Let’s run in fields and fear the dark together.

Fall of swings, and burn special things,

and both play outside in bad weather.

Let’s eat badly.

Let’s watch adults drink wine and laugh at their idiocy.

Let’s sit in the back of the car,

making eye contact with strangers driving past,

making them uncomfortable.

Not caring.

Not swearing.

Don’t fuck.

Let’s both reclaim our superpowers;

the ones we all have and lose with our milk teeth.

The ability not to fear social awkwardness.

To panic when locked in the cellar;

still sure there’s something down there.

And while picking from pillows each feather,

let’s both stay away from the edge of the bed,

forcing us closer together.

Let’s sit in public, with ice cream all over both our faces;

sticking our tongues out at passers by.

Let’s cry.

Let’s swim.

Let’s everything.

Let’s not find it funny lest someone falls over.

Classical music is boring.

Poetry baffles us both;

there’s nothing that’s said is what’s meant.

Plays are long, tiresome, sullen, and filled;

with hours that could be spent rolling down hills,

and grazing our knees on cement.

Let’s hear stories and both lose our inocence.

Learn about parents and hforgiveness,

death and morality,

kindness and art,

thus losing both of our innocent hearts,

but at least we won’t do it apart.

Grow up with me.

— Keaton Henson

anyway, don't be a stranger

p.s. i still wait for you

I know you think about me when you kiss her.

Lana del Rey, from Violet Bent Backward Over the Grass; "Who Am I To Love You?,"

I am not meant for casual love. I was born for soul consuming love and obsession.