Writing

I woke up to beeping.

Slow. Steady. Annoying.

People think the world makes sense if you look at it long enough.

Like if you study hard enough, listen carefully enough, follow the rules closely enough—everything will line up the way it’s supposed to.

That’s a lie.

It's December already

I've been alive for over thirteen years

over thirteen years of learning and growing

making mistakes and accomplishing feats

of finding myself and uncovering layers in not only myself

The cymbals clashed. The audience erupted. The lights flipped on. And then, it was time for us. Time for the dozens of hours we had spent practicing to pay off in three minutes.

There are days and nights

When I still think of you

And I smile

Because even if you’re gone

I know you’re happy now

You never truly leave your hometown

You carry pieces of the past in your veins 

And you begin to reminisce when you bleed

In your darkest moments

You are the same child you were all those years ago