I'd say you bring color to my life
That my life was gray before you came along
But, that would be a lie
Life was always colorful

You make me want to color it some more.

I want to color you silly
Would you do me the honor
of coloring me too?

Once, there was a person who did me wrong. At the time, I didn't know why I was so sad. But, I cried everyday. I couldn't sleep at night and only fell asleep from exhaustion as dawn broke. I wanted to hate this person. Maybe I should have. Maybe, I did.

I know I shouldn't have because she was only doing her job and I was the one in the wrong and I didn't work hard enough and I didn't have enough sleepless nights to prepare for what I should have prepared for. I didn't give myself enough to the work. I didn't give ENOUGH of MYSELF. I didn't know my priorities and I didn't realize that my actions at the time would cost me so much down the line. Or, so I thought.  I don't know.

Today I thought I didn't care.  And, I hadn't for such a long time. I've met the person I was before it happened and I was confident that I was fine. I became her again. It's been years since I...

Yet, I heard news about others who were given merit for their accomplishments. Something I should've been awarded should I have not had that one slip up. Or was it my slip up?

And I thought I was fine, after all this time. The point is.. I''m done deciding whose fault it was and really, I don't feel sad. But, I don't feel fine. I'm far from fine. I'm not mad. I'm hurt.

I feel as if the wound that I thought was a scar was still a scab and someone ripped it off to reveal that the wound never healed. I just ignored it and forgot about it. I lived as if the scab wasn't there.

I used to believe time heals all wounds and maybe it does for some people.

I see now that the magic hasn't worked for me at all.

I say I hate cliches, but I can't break free from them
I end up being the teen who hates her parents
I want to cry for help but who would help?
The adults?
Like that's new?
I don't even want help anymore.

I feel trapped
But the only one here to trap me is myself
I say a few words don't hurt
They don't.
I feel numb.
Dead.

I feel nothing.

What difference then is there in life and death?
They don't understand
How inviting the knife is.
Or how exhilarating heights are.
How I want to jump from the tallest building
Just
To taste true freedom.

But freedom
Is not what I want...

It want happiness.

I fear change and of being forgotten, but I’ve come to realize that the essence of transcending my own life is not merely limited to that of memory, trinkets and remembrances. Similar to a mother tree, my roots will go deeper and the seeds that I have created will continue to plant seeds of their own. Essentially, as I go further into the past and the future, I am connected to almost everything through my ancestors and through my children’s children. My children will remember how I was good to them and hopefully pass it on to their own children. The people carrying me within them may change and may forget who I am and the things I’ve done. However, the values I will have instilled within my kin will become my essence and I feel that that is enough to validate my existence and my worth. It is enough for me to commit myself to make at least this possible.

And so I
Pleased everybody
But myself