I Am The Little Mermaid

Jennifer. Nocturnal. Lover of Poetry and Nature. Reader. Writer. Film Watcher. Musical Enthusiast. Crocheter. Happily in Love.

“Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.”

Achilles to Briseus, Troy (2004)


The world will give you moments in fields of warm grass,
or in the rain on pale beaches, or in the car with the radio blaring,
where pain ceases, and all you are is a dream. You will be pink
and ripe with stories. You will probably lose most of them; you will crush
them like seashells with your waves; you will let them slip
out of your hands to escape into the horizon; you will drown them out
with your singing, with your screaming, with the music of being alive.
Some of them will cling so tight to the ends of your hair and to the tip of your tongue
and to the folds of your skin that their little fingers will melt into your body
and you will never be able to shake them off. The rest, of course,
you will give away. And from those gifts of stories will spring new moments,
new blades of grass, new drops of rain, new music notes,
new places of peace and beauty. You will be soft and full on stories.
The pages of your pleasure will be yellow with melancholy.
The world will give you one more moment in the open air where the freshness
of one breath will reach your toes, where your eyelids are warm
and cloaked in light, where you will sing again, louder than the first time.
Pain will cease, and all you will be is a dream.