Seashells Calling

from across the world

I am on a peregrination

to find what is mine,

become beet-rooted

and bruised

in what I love,

without being

easily shifted into

someone else’s

version of ideal

when they

don’t fit

mine.

i’m going

hunting.

midnight sun

will illuminate the way

to the girl i once was,

and for the first time

i can bloom

with the bluebells

and breathe,

and be,

mine.