Hello again
It’s me
Soph-ie

Tomorrow I’m going to therapy
I’m really nervous

But I’m gonna do really well
I’ll be comfortable
And maybe make new friends?

Help me through this if you can

But either way I will do it
And I will stay strong

I’ve been working on myself
And they will see

Could you turn my pain
into love again
Could you touch my skin
like a drop of rain

Please, don't treat me
like an unknown person
Please, let me be happy
in your prison

Could you hear me, please?
Would you answer me, please

Do you still enjoy the sunset
as we did before
Do you remember me there yet
or not anymore

No, I can't deal
with my emotion
No, I won't stop my eyes
to be an ocean

Would you relive my memories
Could you fix my broken heart, please

Do you miss me
as I miss you in the moonlight
Do you cry for me
as I do for you every night

I can't live
with this pain of separation
Day after day
I'm falling into the omission

Could you feel me, please?
Will you come back to me, please?

Drink away the uncertainty
Drink away the fears
Drink away the judgement
Drink away the tears

Drink to what’s in front of you
Or to who’s on either side
Drink to being the person
You are so deep inside

You have a degree in marine biology.
. . .and?
You are moving to a land locked state.
. . . so?
Are you going to throw away your career?
. . . maybe.
(In reality no, but I'm not going give you that comfort. You clearly don't understand how modern science works)

Career is not the best way to measure a successful life.
I stand firm to your confused glare.

I went to college at 18 and decided "marine biology".
. . . why?
It's cool.
I had one class in oceanography.
I have never held a fish before.
I had been to the ocean a few times.
At 18, I based my life on "It's cool" and no one thought twice.

Now, I'm pushing 30. This year I got married to my bestfriend of 4 years, we bought a house, and want to start a family.
. . . and you are asking "Are you sure?"

I have been thinking and planning this for  years.
I have lived through 2020.
I am more sure of this than anything in my life.

So, if you don't understand?
If you don't approve?
Agree?
. . . It's cool.

The words that flow from my mouth

Unfiltered

Full of grit and **** and bile

My actions

Too aggressive and destructive and thoughtless

My existence

Too pointless and worthless and shameful

The soldier is just that. They fight in actual wars. They risk their lives to protect the "morals" of their "country". None-the-less, they want a better future for their children.

When the war is done, the soldiers children are the farmers. The farmers rebuild, and want. They want material objects. Maybe it's the food they lacked when they were young. Maybe it's a gas guzzling sports car. None-the-less, they want a better future for their children.

When material "wealth" has been achieved the artist is born to the farmer. The artist has the time to take actual pleasure in life's little wonders. But they also have the time to see all the injustices in the world. Injustices, vial enough to start a . . . war.  None-the-less, they want a better future for their children.

Maybe that's the point of it all.

Maybe we have to fall,
and we have to
break, until we cannot
break anymore.

"You speak
    to me as if
       you're
            afraid
    we'll fall
               in love"