I'm not sunset
nor am I sunrise.
I'm the moon
in midnight's eyes
at the death of day
and the birth of night,
awake and mixing
in my boldest beams,
in tidal pools
a midnight moon
and blue waters
in dark corners.
It's 2 a.m.here in Calgary,
I'm sitting on my bed thinking,
I have an English quiz today,
I studied for it,
But of course my anxiety has to come along,
I'm thinking of all the possible outcomes and future of either passing or failing the test,
The numbers so far 5:129
(No don't worry the 129 is the failure side, I told you so that you don't have to ask which ones which),
It's 2 a.m. and I have come up with 134 possible outcomes of this test and my parents make me take sleeping pills that I dump in the toilet,
I drink a lot of coffee and energy drinks,
But I'm still thinking tossing and turning physically and mentally,
Then you wonder why do you have to continue this way,
Then this depression thing comes in and makes my anxiety worse,
Causing a melt down.
It's 2:01 a.m.
Take a white woman and cover her in red paint
Take a black woman and do the same
Now you can't tell the color of their skin
You can only judge from what is within
We are taught from a young age
To hate what is different from us
Now it's your choice to be peaceful
It's not the paint that is deceitful
But we are the same kind of people
If you look in my inner reflection
It's not about thick thighs and pigmentations
It's about every heart in all of the nations
Who would you take a slug for
Who do you wish death upon
Don't waste your bad words
On the ears of that's all that they've heard
Speak life into strangers daily
I don't know you or owe you
But I can still call you my friend
And we will fight together until the end
We all bleed red paint
We all die sinners and saints
Don't label me something I ain't
This heart, is not for the faint
So bless my skin
An all that is within
From the tips of my toes to
Every part the good Lord to knows
You judge me if you like
I won't reflect on it
I have cracks in my skin
And all the paint seeps in
And so it fills me up
With all the love and the pain
Of those who bleed out in vain
Because fools speak words that sound insane
Different shades of acceptance
So judgmental in their minds
Because they fear what is different
It's not your fault they on ignorance
So color me blue
And let the sky watch
Because we have bigger problems
Than who's white and who's not
Solitary, lie-back moments; of being in the coziest of places surrounded by the most mundane yet magical. Melancholy has a way of tinging itself with those little nuances of memory, and those little nuances of memory tinge themselves with shades of bittersweet and sad recollection over time. Silent reckonings, simplistically suppressing thoughts - all huge contradictions to the slow, natural motion of letting the waves wash over you.
Is this emotional maturity? Is this a step forward? Life is always full of too many intricacies to tell for sure.
The familiar scents of tearstains and revulsion being punctuated by the occasional flicker of light ahead; pain and perseverance, hope and the promise of heaven.
We are so full of contradictions - concrete, grounded beings yet with so many abstractions and complexities in our heads. A constant grapple, a relentless cycle. Coming back to places of washed up memories has this effect on you; but you pull through, you plough through quicksands, you pick up the small rationalities that have gone astray, and you move forward like you’ve always been doing before. It’s the only thing we know how to do.
Walk on our own, on our own two feet.
And pray that whatever knocks us down, will never be enough to sink us.