I don’t want to call you the lost girl.
I’m so sick of calling you that,
This 20-something identity,
We are hungry for late night validation and snacks,
Fill our bodies with liquids and hope that something is going to make sense,
Craving a GPS,
We are sailing without a motor and wondering how long until someone notices.
Shouting to the Coast Guard,
“We don’t know where we’re going! This boat has holes and I’m afraid of sinking.”
You wonder if you are actually Jack,
with an inevitable fate.
Rose is receding into the horizon and you know this isn’t an end
or a beginning
you are just
Dear lost girls,
My warriors in shades of “I’m not good enough”
You are more than enough.
You are spontaneous combustion
and things he
You burn so brightly and this is not to be feared,
your potential is frightening,
especially to you.
So you run away,
You pull blankets over your head and ask the cosmos if you can just hibernate
and say goodbye
for a little while.
But lost girls,
you are not lost girls.
You are my generation.
You are electric and blue and green and nothing that people have seen before,
Or maybe they have,
That doesn’t downgrade what you have to give
even if you don’t know what that is.
My lost girls,
Brimming with unlimited love and hearts that I want to preserve,
I want to protect you all.
But I cannot,
my lost girls,
you are so much stronger than you think.
Strength isn’t a universal definition like you believe.
It is you.
in all your ugly parts too.
I don’t know what I have to give,
But we are here
You will find your path
just keep walking.
That is the only thing you can do,
my beautiful lost girls.