fifteen years young, sat on the bus
burnt oranges, humid plastic seats, jolting and rattling with every bump in the sweltering pavement
told a stranger I wanted to be extraordinary someday
he laughed, ordinary is better, he said, I sat confused
this is extraordinary, he told me, pointed to my smile, I didn't understand
all I ever wanted was to build cathedrals that stretched for miles and miles and light fires on everything bad in this world, give a piece of my heart to the sky, create fireworks that echoed back in the reflection of every curious eye,
I stood before the crowds for too long alone I couldn't see past my wistfulness
the walls started crumbling and the fires spread to the good parts and my heart couldn't handle the feeling of being so alive
not fifteen anymore, I sit on the bus, still
jolting and rattling down the road, I realize it now
those trees stretching to the clouds are cathedrals and lighting fires isn't as effective as a single kind heart, my heart sustained from above, curious eyes have a need to be fixed on something much greater
ordinary is extraordinary, your smile, especially
you just have to look harder, I hope you'll see it too