On days when the thought of being a ceiling to the world for any longer feels impossible, the sky cries.
On days when the clouds have hidden who she thought she was and she wonders if she was ever the perfect blue everyone wanted her to be, the sky cries.
On days when nothing goes right and everyone is too far away to listen and she feels too heavy with sorrow, the sky cries, and she crys so hard so much because some days, sunshine doesn't come easily and she wants to give up, but she isn't allowed to so she cries and cries and cries like a fallen child with a scraped knee. She cries.
But unlike the scraped knee, no one cares. Her tears are an inconvenience, and it's her fault that field day was cancelled, that the lights won't turn on that their favorite shirt is wet. Her tears are unlucky,
It was the hottest day there had been for a while. There was nothing to do and it seemed like the world had gotten stuck on something that made it rub against itself before finally slowing to a stop. When you thought about it, maybe the world really needed a break, a way to reset itself from the tireless work it did for years and years and years. But if you didn't think about it, it was just plain hot, too hot for pondering the world or really doing anything. Just hot.
I sighed and tugged on Cornflake's leash. Why I was out here, I didn't know. I wondered if there was a way I could've been a completely different person five minutes ago when I decided to leave my air-conditioned house and go for a walk. Maybe I was tired of scrolling on my laptop, or maybe just of Cornflake's persistent whining. Maybe I was feeling adventurous, but the feeling didn't last for thirty seconds once I left the house and the humid air wrapped tightly around me.
Sometimes at night as I lie in bed with my head overflowing with feelings and happenings and songs that have made their way to replaying over and over in my brain, I turn my attention right side out and back to the real world and
I peek out of the shade-free strip of window where I can't close it because of the tiny plant I forget to water and
the darkness glows with the backyard light that someone flicked on so they could see the dog running around, full of energy, as I lie in the darkness and wait for sleep to find me and
I know that somewhere a staircase and a few rooms away someone who loves me exists.
I wish we all had that. A little light, a little nudge to whisper in our ears that however dark the world may be, someone who cares is there.
I wish no one had to stumble in the darkness of a tunnel that
She sits beneath the tree, fingers gently strumming a guitar, trying to let her emotions out from where they're tied up in her heart, trying to make sense of them through music. She plays only for herself, because no one's around to hear, but that's okay. She doesn't need anybody else.
He slides into an empty seat at the back of the bus, backpack up next to him, protecting him from having to see one more person today, hunched over his phone, looking at text messages that pull tears up from deep down inside him and into his eyes, but he's okay. He doesn't need anybody else.
They run through the forest purple sneakers pounding out the rhythm of anger, running away from where they are vulnerable, to a place where they're all alone. A place where no one can hurt them, and no one can comfort them, either, but it's okay. They don't need anybody else.
They say this is where the elves live, you whispered in my ear. I swallowed, because you were stepping off the path and we weren’t supposed to, but the forest had always known you like a friend, so as you led me deeper into the woods, I wasn’t afraid.
I wanted to ask you what we were doing, wanted to know answers, wanted to understand, but you were too fast-paced on your slender legs for me to slow you down with questions, and I trusted you anyway, so I kept quiet.
You didn’t know where you were going, but it was as though you’d been there before, by the way you didn’t hesitate as you walked over plants and roots and dead leaves in bare feet with a look of determination on your face.
thank you because now, maybe, we're a step closer to living in a world where everyone is accepted and no one doubts whether they should be where justice is everywhere and discrimination isn't a thing where being who you are isn't risky and hiding yourself isn't safe where the world is full of love, love, love and there is no room for hate thank you
but wait, before you go, why how come I don't understand that
it takes a law to do all this we need discrimination to be illegal to banish it why can't we just live in a world where everyone knows it's okay everyone can accept you you can be yourself your full self and no one but yourself without hate lurking, ready to spring the moment you come out of hiding? why do we need to be told to be accepting, to love? why can't we just know?
Liberty and justice for all. Okay, so those words fit perfectly on our tongues, memorized, recited while gazing at the flag of the country that was supposed to be the land of the free. Those words, a reassurance. A promise. A pledge. A guarantee that in this country, the world is right. With liberty. With justice.
But words mean nothing.
I write and I try to give meaning to my words, but how can words do anything when everyone insists they're true? Words don't magically become reality. If those words were written more than a century ago, why, why, why can't we see yet that we are not done?
Why can't we understand that justice doesn't exist unless we make it?
Why can't we remember that words mean nothing if we don't give them truth?
