How do i make it hurt less
If nobody is left to help.
How do i make it hurt less
When i don't want to be saved.

We are the kids
Who want to feel alive
We want to feel liberated and beautiful and young.
We are the sad youth.
Of cutting
And anti-depressants
Praying for some one to save us
From ourselves,
When our minds are dark
And we are alone.
We are the wild youth.
Of late nights
And city lights
With our lungs filled with smoke
And adrenaline pumping through our veins.
We are the lonely youth.
Where no one knows our thoughts
And no one understands
But God, how we wish they would.
We are the hipster indie youth.
We don't do it for the aesthetic
Because this is who we are
We live our lives in black white
And sometimes, someone beautiful
Adds in the most vibrant color.
We are the wandering youth.
Searching, exploring, running, grasping
At whatever we can
That make us see
There is hope
And wonder
And brilliance in the world.
We are the youth of today
We are different
But we are human.
We are the youth.
And even if our youth is fading,
The memories we made aren't.

You are car rides
Across the city,
Windows rolled down;
Both of us drunk in oxygen.

You are crazy sunglasses,
The warm sun
illuminating your face,
Your face aglow with
the light of the universe.

You are the softly sung lyrics
Of all my favorite songs,
The melody my mind
Keeps replaying.

You are the eyes behind the lens,
The beauty you forget to portray
In your photographs.

You are the smell of spring,
The air laden with
The perfume of all
the flowers in the world.

You are warm cups of tea
And feminist t-shirts
And hipster glasses
And old songs
And a million unread books.

You see her in the coffee shop
Out of local mainstream
Sipping her black coffee
In her skinny gray jeans

You see her ambling round town
In the places no one goes
Her wild auburn hair
Hiding the white earphones, the players
Of music, only exclusive to her
Like a band at its first gig

You see her in food stores
Drifting between aisles
With an aura of mystery
Where she buys only coffee and kale

You see her browsing thrift stores
Picking out clothes
White shorts, button downs, black tights
You know she can afford more, but
You know that this is her style.

The style of the hipster.