Don’t cut yourself on the broken pieces of yesterday
the memories like shards on the floor
but I’m barefoot
we are straddling something
much bigger than just “yesterday”
We live in a world that believes
its better to be boring
than absolutely ridiculous
I remember the words once written to me
“Your my hero”
yet my friends and family watched
as my own cape
was caught in one very high up tree.
I bet my mother prayed as she bared me
That I wouldn’t become a product of society
and I remember during days at the beach
most kids would step in their parents sandy footprints
while I backwards tracked my own.
Theres a difference between being strange and broken
between being unheard and unspoken
And just because your living an uphill battle
doesn’t mean your on a downward spiral.
Because there are demons inside
completing task after task
making us want to believe this
One day they feed off food
untouched by an anorexic
and the next push people
off of suicidal ledges
into rocks like pits in our stomachs
when we hear our loved ones are gone.
Sticks and stones
soon become boulders and javelins
and humans have come to the conclusion
that the closer we come to confront our problems,
the bigger the targets in our hearts become.
But they aren’t aiming it for the holes in our heart
rather the cracks on our skin
because our flaws remain shallower than
we remember burying them.
We didn’t burry them deep
like how a skipped pebble that sinks
Like the thoughts of a teen after taking one too many drinks.
our lives can only skip so far in just one blink.
And while some fear
and physical pain
the scariest fear of all is loneliness.
We grow up in a generation
where we laugh at #foreveralone
when in reality
its just a light hearted way
of expressing how we believe
that we will never be loved.
I need you
you are water to my tree
So I can stand tall and proud
with my roots dug so deep underground
with branches reached out
from their plagued scrutiny
to be trapped with my thoughts
is to face reality
inside of me
no fake hospitality.
Not all trees are able to grow
and some are even cut down.
by the people spit words so strong
they burst holes through brick walls
just leaving more debris to tip toe around
but sometimes we need to cut ourselves on all this glass and ruble
because our trees can’t just grow on soft soil.
Because even when we seem lost
we are given the opportunity
to find something greater
Till the day we realize that imperfection is beauty
that tears are not a broken down truck
but the gasoline to keep it going.
Till the day we can look back and say
it only took one baby leaf
to spark a revolution
and stretch into one
very high up tree.