Scarry Night

Sometimes,
I will cry.
Sometimes,
it is because of 
what I have lost.
Sometimes,
it is because of 
what is to come.
And,
sometimes,
it is because I am happy.
I can be joyful,
I can be relieved,

We make mistakes.
I do,
you do. 
Our entire world does.
But a mistake
is more than what simply meets the eye.
A mistake
could be a misunderstanding.
A mistake
could be unspoken truths. 
It is to be wrong,

There are many,
many things,
that matter to me.
My family,
my friends,
writing,
music,
dance. 
My sisters,
one who is going to college soon,
the other who is a wonderful artist,
both are phenomenal. 

So many nights
are spent,
imagining the surreal,
thinking about the undiscovered. 
So many nights
are spent,
dreaming. 
Dreaming,
about things that
could happen.
Dreaming,
about things that
could not.

This morning,
this beautiful,
cool,
refreshing morning, 
I sat down in
a red recliner.
I sat,
and I wrote. 
My hands were typing,
while my eyes lingered
to the window,

Pink shoes.
They seem so simple,
they seem so small,
they seem so normal.
You can see these things,
these dainty,
wonderful things,
in many places.
A beaming young child,
jumping,
dancing,
laughing at the park.