seasons: a working poem or bit of prose of some sorts

my sister chooses to forgive me, time and time again, and I wonder why and whether I would do the same if I was her and I pray to God that I would

my mother was once a girl and so was her mother and the thought makes the girl that I am today crumble a little

my father used to not even try, and now he does that and beyond, and I thank God that we’re both trying

my best friends still call me Jane, a name that’s not my name, it’s an inside joke between us that has stuck to this day

my psychiatrist tells me that I’m doing better and I don’t know if I believe her but who else has seen through me like she has?

my thighs now touch when before there was a gap and I think about the fullness of my body, I should hate it but I don’t but I don’t love it either, I just know that I accept it for what it is now

my jeans don’t fit like they used to and so I gave them away for new pairs of jeans that state “THIS is me” (at least for now)

my graduation kebaya is now my default wedding guest attire and the colour is still my favourite shade of blue

my favoutire film changes every now and then though I still have a soft spot for Little Women (2019) and Julie and Julia (2009)

my current season of life tastes sour and sweet and each bite feels different as it expands my flavour palate and it’s not the easiest thing to chew but thank God I keep trying