i trace my fingers across
your pale skin,
and i want to cry for you.

we are too young to be
this sad, but nevertheless, 
our hearts have been broken
by our legacies.

my hands cup around
your face and i can taste
you tears, mascara and salt.

we are the generation that
will never make it out of 
the storm alive.

my heart is beating, hard.
i can't control myself.
i can't help you.

we are the kids stuck in
the classrooms that make us
feel trapped, that make us feel
like we were born to be forgotten.

we, we are the children
of beautiful mothers,
the tragedies that were forced
to walk this earth until we
choked on our own tears.

we are the mistakes that no
one had the time to fix.

and we are beautiful.