i’ve never met someone so good and strong and kind. whose heart isn’t shaped by the world’s thundering opinions but by what they believe the world should be instead.
and yet there’s a sadness an understanding that i see inside those smiling eyes. and maybe the rest of the world is too distracted to see it. too blinded by the light you put into this universe with seemingly so little effort to notice the weight on your shoulders which you feel you must carry alone.
but i see it. and i know you’re not broken– not truly– just a little bit chipped. and i know that things which seem so effortless so simple really take everything we have left inside. little by little piece by piece until we feel as though we’ve lost ourselves to a darkness we didn’t know existed.
and here we are with empty hands to find ourselves again and again until one day we’re not so lost and not so broken and the light in our eyes feels a little less like a lie and a little more like a truth which we’ve wanted to believe for years.
and it’s a magical kind of change a beautiful sort of freedom that lifts you up on your toes to catch a falling star as it passes.
and maybe we’re not there yet still caught up on this winding road of trying and failing to reinvent ourselves. but there are wildflowers in the ditches and bumblebees in the flowers and i think though it’s a little darker than we would have liked i’d like to stay here a while and catch a falling star or two with you by my side.
I wonder if the sun ever has a bad day. If its alarm clock goes off And it rolls over in bed And that sinking pit develops in its stomach As it remembers all of the wrong which occurred the day before.
I wonder if it considers simply never getting up. If it would rather stay indoors And wrap itself up in a nice cozy blanket And eat some ice cream to feel better for three minutes And then guilty for twenty.
I wonder if it asks the moon for just a few more hours Minutes Seconds So that it doesn’t have to face the pain of simply existing Anymore.
But then I remember That even after the hard days The tough days The days that make me wish there were no more days to follow The sun continues to rise And pull itself out of bed And brush its teeth And hang itself nicely in the sky So that it can smile down on me And remind me that there’s still a little patch of good left in this world.
And if Even after the bad days The sun can continue to rise Then I suppose I can try To get up after the hard days Too.
Twenty-one is such a funny age, isn’t it? It’s poetry and ink-stained fingers Hopeful eyes and broken dreams. And yet Scattered throughout the pages of this chapter There is a wish A dream A captured breath That says maybe, just maybe What I’ve wanted all along will come to be.
I’m older and wiser than I was at seventeen. Stronger and fiercer than ever. My dreams are clutched tight in both hands And this time I refuse to let them slip through like water. This time I will release them into the air One by one Watch them sprout wings and fly Flutter through the wind like dragonflies. And maybe Just maybe They will come back to me Land on my fingers and tell me stories of faraway lands And long-lost hopes now forgotten. They will tell me to wish upon a burning star And continue to dream the most dangerous dreams.
Because the only dreams worth chasing Are the ones with the potential to break you.