You know those days: listening to music that hits a little too close to home, and all those emotions are piling to the surface and it spills out from your heart to the page…

Today ended up being one of those days, which means y’all get a whole host of poetry. Cue this one, a little unstructured piece on music and memories.

Enjoy ❤

Mushrooms and Roses

Music hits me in all the right places 

Music takes me back, home 

At 6. 

Sitting in the basement, surrounded by speakers. Watching you scribble down songs and verses, as you whisper promises, smiles, promises of music. My first song, written for me. About sunshine, and roses, and clouds. When I thought the world was bright. 

At 7. 

When the world was bright, and we sat in a parking lot and he pulled donuts in the middle of the concrete 

Mushrooms and Roses spilling out from the speakers. 

At 8. 

Driving through city streets, barely awake, watching my mother

Navigating us 

Through the darkness 

Through life. 

Mushrooms and Roses.

At 10. 

Holding those words in my hands. ripping them from my notebook and my heart 

At 11. 

Staring at your words. Your poetry, these lies written to my mother. Reading them, over and over and over as I try and figure out when all this is coming from. 

What happened? 

Now.

Sitting in a coffee shop, writing these words, sipping my hot chocolate that I bought myself as I wait for my shift at work that I got into, myself. 

Now.

Sitting here, taking college classes, mind heavy with math and music, 

Mushrooms and Roses, droning through my headphones, that I bought by myself, because I had to.

Now,

figuring out my love of words came from you. 

Maybe that’s why I used to hate writing. 

Now.

Sitting in an empty room, tears in my heart, waiting for my therapist to heal me in like five minutes until I break again next week. 

I can’t stop thinking about Mushrooms and Roses.