where do I belong

There hasn’t been much to say recently

Mostly I’ve just been looking for God 

When it’s too dark to see 

And asking for answers I don’t have

Lately I’ve been noticing small gifts

And they seem so vital

Like the sun on our walls

In the morning

Through the leaves 

That weren’t there a week ago

Our library

A breeze

Strawberry season

A new pair of sweat shorts

Lately I’ve been trying to notice the good 

Alongside the bad and hold it right there—

The tension

And stare it in the eyes

And still I don’t know what to do with it

So much is wrong

And still the birds are singing right now 

And someone got married yesterday 

And twin babies were born 

And I laughed

And still it is Tuesday 

And everywhere people are dying

And the sun is shining

And where do I belong?

– olivia gwyn

the world waits

It comes to me sometimes at dusk

In startling clarity 

Shaken from seat

Or grabbed by my neck 

Set on my feet

It is almost night and it is time

I know it is

If I wait one second it could be too late

It could be morning

It could be the moment has passed me by 

I know then how quickly my youth might leave me behind

How precious the days are—

The old, the young and the leaving

I know how I need to run

Like a dog let loose in a wide open field

For the pure pleasure of it

I know how it feels to want to set off 

Into the night

Into the woods

Into a party where no one knows your name

Is this a book?

Who said it couldn't be? 

Is this not a story?

Are we not all?

Are we not free to be free 

To remember what it feels like

To be

I remember, like a nightmare from your childhood

Stepped out of the dark right in front of your face

The buzz of an adrenaline pumping in your veins

A thrill of terror, of potential you thought you'd outgrown

How easy it is to romanticize a life out here

The still dusk, full of creatures and hope and fear

The scent of the smoke still clinging to your hair

The scent of hay fresh and boozy on the air

What could be more urgent?

The world waits

To be cut open with a knife 

— olivia gwyn

life is like a

 
Sometimes I feel like a child
Like life is a bundle of flowers 
I’ve got clenched in my fist 
In a death grip 

I’m so scared to let
A single one of them go
That I clutch them tight enough
To squeeze the life out of them

Sometimes I feel like a child again
Not sure what I did wrong 
No idea how to hold things loosely
Never told how to let them go

Only told not to hurt them
Only telling them I was 
Only trying to keep them safe