Trinkets…

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A safe space

A bed and shelves that sing my memoirs

Trinkets, a steal of sentimental youth

Book binds and record sleeves

Paint a picture of then

Blanket me in the now

Push me toward the next change

Grounded by a space that honours time

Honours who I was, am, will be

Anxiety paused, a platform to rejuvenate.

“Home” is where the heart is but it’s also where the strength to grow is. It’s revisiting the past and remembering why you left, it’s a heartbeat of clarity in the mess of your hounding thoughts, it’s allowing your stubborn self to be looked after and the rememberance that having people in your life to do so, however limited is one of the greatest gifts. I feel more myself in this moment than I have this whole year. I don’t miss New Zealand at all and that’s okay too. It was a time in my life I’ll learn I was in need of I’m retrospect and just because it was paradise for so many that doesn’t mean it had to be paradise for me too. Being home is not a failure and it’s not permanent it’s another chance, a hug and a push onto the next chapter. I feel more inspired here than I have anywhere else. The grey days show their own kind of love too. 

Love and light, N x

Author: nikki

A wanderer of sorts, capturing forever the things that make my spirit soar and soul ignite.

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