The Peak 

I used to wish on every star, fallen eyelash, dandelion 

And 11:11  that one day I could make it to the top;

Just so I could bring you to me.

I’d fantasize about laying in spring grasses with only having to worry of if we’re smashing the much smaller organisms beneath us. Oh wouldn’t that be lovely? 

Immaculate happiness so strong we dont have to worry about midnight cold sweats combined with shaken sadness. 

I dreamt of the days where we we no longer have to feel our hearts slowly sinking through our ribcages 

And we could enjoy our wholeness to an extremity. 

Lately, I’ve realised I’ve been wasting wishes. Because although alone we may experience unshakable sadness and self loathing; 

I’ve been dreaming about the top;

I’ve already made it to the peak. 


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