So this is what it feels like to be powerful
To have brought forth something from nothing
To celebrate other's accomplishments
And to recieve respect tenfold for
All that you've given

So this is what it feels like to reach the end of the journey
To be surrounded by familiar faces one last time
To watch the future stand up and take your place
A candle once lit is blown out

So this is what it feels like to be released from the chains on your tears
To memorize a moment and burn it to your heart

This is what it feels like to be powerful
And you know what?

It feels a lot like love.

If you stay still, silent and out of the way,
People will walk by without even knowing you're there.

How many things do you miss as you live your life?

Out of corners that look empty and corridors that blend together
The truth will appear

Blink your eyes open

I'm waiting there.

You know those dystopian stories that became popular a few years ago?
Where there's the one government that controls all the people
and they're well past the pitiful divisions of before,
because otherwise the whole Earth's going to be destroyed?
Or it already is and they need each other's cooperation to survive
in the lifeless vacuum we call space?
And yeah, it's dystopian because something's going wrong-
the government is ******* away people's individuality,
it's taking advantage of the people who can't fight back, or something like that-
but I look around at the world I live in today
with all it's death and sadness and sand-drawn lines
and I can't help but think I'd like to be a citizen of those stories instead

An age-old warning haunts me from a fairy tale
*Be careful what you wish for

I use my hair as a paintbrush to place raindrops on my palm
In the harsh light of the desk lamp,
They shimmer, on fire
Like the trees outside the door
I wipe the water on a towel
But the glow doesn't fade
Until my hands are staid.

A boy and I arrive at the teacher's desk at the same time
There's an awkward flurry as we try to figure out who should get a paper first
But eventually the boy defers to me
"Chivalry isn't dead," the teacher jokes, and the boy laughs with him
I head back to my desk, tongue bitten between my teeth
I seem to have a talent for that
But part of me wants to turn around and tell them
No
Chivalry's been dead for a while now
And I'd answer the question in their eyes with
That was just common, human courtesy

Then again who am I to judge other's intentions?

Still would've been fun to see their faces.