I will dance to the music playing in my head.

I will find shapes in my bruises, like I do with the clouds.

I will remember that my own thoughts are really quiet spells.

I will write more letters.

I will savour my alone time, like I was invited and RSVP-ed.

I will squeeze your hand when I'm anxious, and offer you mine, when you are too.

I will find poetry on my walks, I know it's waiting to be seen.

I will only rush when there's a reason.

I will cook too much, and bring you the leftovers.

I will protect all that is gentle, both within me and around me.

I will rest hard when the chance arises.

I will be so soft, that sharp edges cannot pierce me.

I will never thinking I know too much.

I will celebrate like it's a special occasion.

I will relish in the small joys, found in the pockets of life,

knowing everything is temporary–– feeling, fleeting, felt.