Sometimes I get this sensation as I take my bare feet and place them into tight enclosed shoes to walk a cold grey concrete path still rigid to the shards of broken dreams and promises scattered along the middle, the sounds of other people's footsteps drown out my insecurities and the insignificance of a person who feels small as I try to grasp at merging into the person full of light and meaning who has a spark in her eye, destined to do and make great changes instead of falling into her own world of isolation and despair glancing around myself, wondering whether or not I actually belong I don't see my name on the board with my peers standing in the crowd, waiting for the crosslight to let me walk walk with them to the other side, but somewhere along the way do I get lost or am I just destined to walk the wrong path just so I could be with my peers who are, of course, the future who will change the world who will introduce a revelation that will change the biased courses of humanity
but as for me
the deafening screams and words of other people's lives, moments, recollections and livelihoods cover up my hushed pathetic cries and calls for help as I question all that is taking place in every which way I look somewhere out there a mom and her growing daughter become closer as my own mom falls apart on me unknowingly ripping apart my right to establish an identity of my own somewhere out there a dad can tell his children about his life experiences of the virtues and humility within that led to their blessed ways of life now as my own dad who deserves, at least everything the world has to give works harder and harder every day and every second to continue our "blessed" ways of life now
but despite all of that
I am told No-- just focus on yourself make sure you don't miss the crosswalk make sure you make us proud-- but they don't see they are what matters when it comes to a kid hoping to grow into a better person
there are colors;
some old and chipped and falling apart, on the frames of people's subconscious while fresh new colors shimmer in the evening starlight atop blue waters just waiting to be discovered, like a blind person experiencing sight for the first time
but how can I see the night stars and fall in love with the moon's beauty when I'm too busy staring at the sun trying to make my way up to the very top running, taking jagged steps, bent over all broken and crawling
just hoping to be remembered
as a great sign of the times.
I'd be grateful if people lended me some warm words of kindness. I don't get enough to sustain me these days.