Roots

Dear reader, it's now been a year since The Silence In Chaos was posted. "Time, the elusive creature that slips through our fingers like grains of sand. A month can feel like an eternity, or it can vanish in the blink of an eye." I wrote, because I was more poetic back then. But now suddenly I'm writing in a completely different way. Well, I'm a completely different person, but I miss being poetic. Let me twirl back into my old roots for a moment.

Fifteen drifts away like smoke from a candle, curling into the past, lost in the air. A year of love, of aching, of midnight tears and golden mornings. A year of learning to carry my own heart, even when it felt too heavy.

Now, sixteen glows on the horizon, honey-dipped and untouchable. Sweet, like the first inhale of spring air after a cold winter. Sharp, like the burn of starlight when you stare too long. It comes in waves, in whispered promises, in the quiet understanding that this, too, will be another year I will one day say goodbye to.

The Weeknd’s voice slips through my headphones, velvet and electric. His words, a slow drip of neon sin and longing, melt into my bloodstream. Lana Del Rey hums through my bones, her voice the sound of cigarette smoke in an empty parking lot, of roses crushed beneath high heels. They take me higher than I’ve ever been, higher than I will ever be. Their music is my heroin—intoxicating, dizzying, beautiful. It makes the world feel cinematic, like I am not just living, but existing in an eternal, golden hour.

I want sixteen to be just that—golden, endless, radiant. I want rooftop sunsets and 2 a.m. car rides. I want nights that feel like forever, where the moon hums secrets only I can hear. I want to feel everything, to itaste life like a peach in the heat of summer, sticky and sweet.

Fifteen, you were beautiful and brutal, a dream and a lesson. Sixteen, be kind to me. Be wild. Be free. Be everything. Yours truly, Lenna ❤