Turn the night lights off. The things that scare you do not live in the dark. Wear the moonshine on your hipbones, do not let lovers get drunk off you unless they speak tsunamis, too. You will learn this the hard way; you became condensation when you were meant to be thunder. Now you are sky. Your heart is not a bomb. Plant it wisely, utilised what you do and don’t know if its beat, do not settle for the bruise of tribal music you are not passionate about. There are drums in your ribs for a reason. If you must, take them out yourself and be your own rhythm. Remember to put them back in after. Or don’t. You know the romance of one-way tickets well. Leave yourself where yourself wishes to be left, do not over think. Leave room in your wrists for the things you can’t take with you. There will be plenty, trust me. If you leave empty handed, make sure your knees are dirty. The earth made you its child for a reason and every city’s soil grows new seeds in your spine. One day your courage will thank you for believing in it. A reminder. Your pulse is a typhoon, carry it open-palmed and inebriated. Let it breathe when you fear it will destroy. It won’t. It needs you more than you need it.
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