Make it make sense.
Blankets as sheets
Basements as comfort
Boxes of future life plans
Kept in stacks
Keep the c̶a̶s̶t̶l̶e̶ fortress walls—

Growing.
Leave her be.
It too.
That as well.
The darkness
Closed doors
Backwards habits—

Growing.
Attempts at the the ‘un-norm’
With a plea for a new normalcy of sorts..

Eventually—
One day—
Someday.
In a̶…y̶o̶u̶r̶…her—
wildest of
Dreams.

And all the untold stories—
From the Upside Down Sleeps.

—xoxo
A

This chapter was made for the
moon roof sets
sometimes those sun roof breaths.

The barefoot ballerina parking lot dances
you pray you never told em’ about..

Your sacred and safe places
being Yours
Mine.
introductions on a whim.
Vulnerability attempts.
Openness of trials.

…and Errors?
Reminding yourself how to breathe a life
worth living again..

This chapter was made for you.
Me.
Us.
Here’s to the rebirth of
Our’s
Their’s..
Whose it needs to be…
A
The
My
phoenix.

‘Cause we sure as
All Hell
ain’t gonna ever
Go..
or
come back.
—xo A

Nothing quite like it huh..
The darkest before the..?

The City suffocation
met with a hand
asking to dance..

In the yellow jeep—
On the lake house dock—
At the formals and those ‘parties’
In the backyard with the bonfires—
On the top of our lungs.
At the NYC extravaganzas and all those weekend shows

The City of suffocation
met with a hand
asking to dance..

In the Uber—
On the Amtrak—
At the 100s of airports and all those adventures
In the sunshine of JAX—
On the island of Aruba—
At every
‘hey how’ve ya been?!’
but the moreso
‘see ya soon!’

The City suffocation
met with a hand
asking to dance..

In the kitchen—
On the sidewalks of Back Bay—
At the apartment—
that we
once called
Ours.

The City suffocation
met with a hand
that let—
…
…
…go.

In the bedroom.
On the 6th.
At the end—
of my—
world.

Paralyzed.
Numb.
The City suffocation..

A pride check—
A truck ride—
A bridge.
The all ‘too familiars’
welcomed home with a
darkness.

Yet a renewal
out of something..
Broken—
A ‘failure-of-being’
met with a
comeback story.

The ocean—
Mom’s check-in hugs—
Your ‘small town’ self—
Family Sunday dinners—
Where it all began.

Give it a chance..
what’s really left to lose?

Familiar saviors
with the warmth of
our younger selves and
all our innocent soccer days—
met with strangers and a sense of
out of place-gratefulness.

A phoenix in a sense
and of the sorts
of it.
5+ years later.
Look at this fire—
remember this fire
of simple—
yet pure—
and the most genuine—
magic.

The darkest.
Darkness.
Light it all on fire.
Jetty jumps.
Ocean dives.
The unplanned comeback story.

The City suffocation
met with a hand..
this time—of her own—
telling her to
…
…
…dance.

—xoxo
A

genuine, whole hearted, full send 0-100.
pinky promises with a side of sticky noted kind words–and those reminders I know you’ll forget about otherwise..
the ‘who are you when no one’s watching?’ type of real, and the ‘don’t do something to someone that you wouldn’t want done to you’ type of deals.
work hard, work harder, then play a little harder too.
the little bit of ‘extras’ with a side of ‘I was just thinking of you.’
values that hold a foundation, respect that demands the arrival,
honesty to keep it all true, and humbleness to bring the pieces full circle.
finding strength in the harder things, while staying grateful too–
using the big girls’ voice, for the ones who get swept under the rug
Team Tippy Toes for the ones told to ‘stay small’
putting both feet back down to stand for the principles that matter
and reminders of “one day at a time” for those forgetting who they are–
stay humble, stay kind, stay genuine, stay true,
stay weird, stay you.

3 Tippy Toe steps forward, and 1 of em’ back,
well hey, that’s still progress–
and I love you for that.

–xoxo,
A

Another 1st of the year
Another round of
“”resolution-ists’ bullshit”

Another set..of another pair..
Of numbers.

No, no. No more numbers.
Just the year of
The More and The Less-es.
The Simples.

more kitchen ballet dances.
less quiet cries.
more lyrics that get ya
less of the ones
that were used..
simply to manipulate
you.
more ‘look how far we’ve come’ s
less ‘i’m supposed to be so much further’ s
More of the simply Simples.

More–
“i’m sorry i hurt you.”
“i’m here if you wanna talk.”
“we can get through this.”
“how can i help?”
“it’s gonna get better.”
“thanks for having my back.”
“i got you–always.”
“you’re stuck with me..”
“–promise?”
Always.

–xoxo A

The plan…the
what..
should have. could have
been type of plan…

And here we sit—
as none of that
exists these days.

The plan..
That life
Those goals.
Who are we—
you—
me—
…now?

Kill it with kindness
they say.
But where has that
gotten me?

30 on 30
The Golden Year
or so I’m told—
Yet here we
stay—
sit—
stick—
…stuck?

T-
minus..who?
Tried.
Failed.
Had the comeback.
But now…
what?

Who sees you these days
more so nights—
sitting alone
on rocks—
in oceans—
under moons?

Keep it together…
they—
it—
those—
remind you.

Golden.

T-…
minus..who?
me?
you?
us?

30 on 30
1/3rd down
…or so they say.
Deep breaths—
in—
out.
Sit. Be.

30 on 30 was the
supposed to be.
So
We—
flip the script.

And now
we have a
new plan.

The now. The new. The plan. The story.
And the supposed-to-be
Of being.

Cause age is just a number
As so is the rest of life
and beings.

And nothing is
unless you
want it to be.

And nothing was.
unless you
need it to be—
too.

30 on 30 looks different
this time
around..yet a blessing in
that disguise.

Here I am—
watch
me
go.

Cheers to me.
..wish you well.
—xoxo A