rules

1.

cut off all your hair at least once.
because everything moves too fast to get attached
and vanity is just a prop to hide behind.

2.

try not to fall in love with the first boy
who’s poetry you accidentally find when he’s not looking.
or the first boy who plays john mayer on his guitar,
whose e string has been restrung more times than you’ve been kissed.

3.

go on more adventures.
there are no boys or hair to weigh you down.

4.

jump in a lake fed by glaciers, one that’s barely 33 degrees.
just to know that you can handle the cold.
one day, someone will accuse you of having a frozen heart,
and it’s good preparation to know what it is really like to have frozen insides.

5.

lie on your side and fill all the negative space your curves make
with all the broken promises you’ve been told,
and mix them with salt water from the nearest coast
you were never too sweet, you were never there to be liked--
you were there to grow sturdy and tall;
never mind the whisper of forrest fires.