If I ask you to look at me like you look at the moon.
If I ask you to ask me to stay. Get a bigger bed. Make room for me.
Are you as open as you say you are. Is the space
next to you on the subway.
Is it for me. Are you saving it. Are you saving me.
Please save me. Or don’t. Let me save me?
If I ask you to look at me like you look at the sun.
Do I make you blind or crazy?
When it comes to loving me, is there a difference.
Is there a difference. Is there a difference.
When it comes to loving the moon, the sun, the stars,
the earth, the sea, the city, the country.
When it comes to loving them, am I different.

—

I accidentally let myself get hurt a little for a while there. It was like leading two different lives; classes this semester were amazing, the people I met were hilarious and bright and alive. But then I had to go back to the dorm, where cruelty lurked and never left and never slept. I shouldn’t have let someone do that to me. But when you fight fire with kindness and silence, the fire doesn’t actually stop burning.

But the semester is over, and I never have to see that person again. I feel like I can breathe again. I caught up on all my stolen hours of sleep. I have my light back. I’m gonna be okay.

All in all, 2016 was really really good. Wonderful, looking back. I am so grateful to those I reconnected with and to those who never left. I am so grateful for the opportunities I had and the opportunities that are ahead. Keep on coming back to the blog; I’ve found my love for it again. It was hidden in my suitcase, shoved under the bed; I forgot to unpack it.

This poem was inspired by the many subway rides I had to take this semester, getting to and from school observations, Times Square visits, and collecting everything needed for studying abroad this upcoming semester! I can’t wait to share.

Happy 2017!

xx,
Meg

Photo taken sometime this summer, when all I wanted to do was stand in the driveway and stare at the sky. Isn’t that the most incredible cloud?