Unfocused eyes blink at humming fluorescent. Swirling images sidle through a limbic system with fickle fingers. An open mouth screams at injustice before images solidify and clear.
Eager appendages grasp at independent thought. Tender skin splintered by a toy abacus, heal to the gentle lull of the ABCs. The palp of a millennial latches on to dimmer switches--and--reusable milk bottles.
Swaddling is an afterthought against waving fists. Fists of fury tangle with Chatter Phone cords and shake at scheduled feedings. A gummy smile gleams against the glare of a Polaroid keepsake.
Affectionate kisses wage a war with applesauce coated pacifiers. Milk splatters on the wall. Round cheeks flush in protest as Armed with Ajax white-washes modern-expression.
I cry for the homeless and broken nails. Struggling to be optimistic, I fight to smile through tears and terrorism. I crave the solace of my deeply seeded faith, while my friends are brilliantly successful. I don't mind being one of the 21% because.... well I'm flexible.
*referring to my generation... the millennials or Generation Y*