cynicism.

I think it’s sad,

that some people never look up at the sky anymore,

that they never talk to imaginary friends, instead they let the silence drive them insane.

that they will let the light leave their children’s eyes, and accept it as ‘reality…”

that they will forever wonder how to pay the bills, how to make the next paycheck count,

cynicism is a sickness,

and many of us are unwilling victims.

cynicism is a sleepiness,

and many of us may never wake up…

 

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innocence.

Her hands have a slight tremor. “Stop that; I am in control,” she whispers to them. They have words written in pen–smudging on the ends–all over them. People tell her the ink will poison her, and she just laughs.

Her eyes are held open by mascara and cups of coffee. No cream, no sugar, she likes the bitterness.

She hums something under her breath. A song from some distant memory. That Ben Rector song that made her smile and cry at the same time.

She’s been heartbroken, but the broken heart is fixed with a little tape and glitter glue.

Her taste is eclectic; never fit into a box. Her room is littered with pictures of old memories; movie tickets, polaroids, letters, journals, and glass figurines. Her stuffed animals lined up on a shelf, and she kisses their cheeks when their eyes droop.

Maybe, she never grew up. She got taller, wears makeup, smiles when she’s told, strives for better grades, fell for boys, and felt her friends maturing day by day.

But–she would still hug the tree in the front yard, or dance along to her favorite songs when everyone else told her to stop.

She watched the city the other day. She drove her mother around, and she realized how alone she felt now.

So many people were gone; some by choice, and some because life is full of chapters. It seemed the town’s population of kindred spirits dwindled daily.

And, tears blurred her vision as she sped along the highway.

Growing up wasn’t what she always expected it would be…maybe she never would be everything they wanted. Maybe, she would always push boundaries, and always get cut from pushing the envelope too much.

That was alright. And, maybe people would keep leaving, because of college, jobs, and responsibility. And, maybe new people would appear and they’d make unforgettable memories together as well.

So, she still hummed the Ben Rector song, and tapped her trembling fingers to the piano playing in her mind, and tried to think of a time where innocence and happiness were second nature.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

fight time.

We sat side by side in the dressing room,

tears streaming down our faces,

broken, bleeding, crying for help;

you held my hand, and said we had to stay friends,

fight time,

fight the impending pages rustling by quickly…

too quickly.

I want to freeze time and stay with you.

I want to miss you every time I see a blonde;

to keep writing you letters with ‘I love you,’ implied in every line.

Life is cruel.

I won’t let it take you from me.

I love you too much.

 

 

 

okay.

there is good worth fighting for in life,

because it tells you everything will be okay

it’s found in the toothless grin of a child,

the glint in someone’s eyes as they tell you their dreams,

in presents that say, I thought of you today

 

I let you tell me everything was going to be, ‘okay.’

because, you were my okay

a slight reminder, that the life wasn’t always

long monologues ending in crying

and murky days, dressed with forlorn people

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

defined.

we so inclined to

hate, discriminate, hurt,

we classify

religion, race, status,

gender, wealth, age

stop rallying into one place

everyone belongs together

everyone deserves love

everyone is special;

equal

what you believe,

where you come from,

who you are,

what you will become,

doesn’t change the fact

you are alive

doesn’t change the fact,

you are a human being

accept your differences

even if no one else will

hold your head high

don’t stoop to their level

don’t hate them for being

fickle and naïve

love them

that’ll turn their heads more

i love you as you are,

and one day, maybe

the world will too.