All mine

So fucking high…up

Girl now you made it

All your successes are yours alone

All your losses are yours alone

Inside you what was empty is now full of life,

Your shadow no longer crying to eclipse the light,

All mixed together by a child’s fingers.

Good girl, bad girl, girl….

Now you made it.

You made it to a non documented life.

You’re making memories without selfies.

You’re making food for one

In a handmade life that seems threadbare to others.

To you it’s gold.

We’re beyond the yellow brick road now.

It’s still yellowish.

I’m ready to die

So fucking high on this road.

Alice Smith letter to self on the survival road. 2022. Are we there yet?

Published by 361one

when I write I am a king. Listen to more at 361 live podcast

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