i stay in the past
out of hatred for the present
and fear of the future
inside my mother's cocoon
as my father works day to day
tirelessly, puffing smoke out of chapped lips
and the cigarette boxes pile the hallways
i live in a dream inside my head
where i paint my walls a different shade each day
and flowers bloom between the cold metal frame of my bed
the cracks in the ceiling
and the dusty gaps in my window
as if i had not heard my sister cry in the night
or nights
and my brother slams the door from outside
yes,
i'd rather stay in the past.

It’s not my place
To dictate where this companionship goes,
It’s not my place
To cut short something before it even grows,
It’s not my place
To assume the thoughts that are inside of you,
It’s not my place
To assume the role of thinking for two.

Why do we default to living inside our heads?
We think of the future
and when we reach the end,
do we look back at our life and see that we planned everything ahead?

We tend to base our futures with the knowledge learned from the past
But wouldn’t that just lead us nowhere new,
but right on the same path?

As kids we’re programmed to think that our present; now makes our future.
What we’re not told is how our past disrupts and unfold,
itself right in front of us.
As a reminder to fear what’s near our grasp.

So live in this moment, breathe it all in
Our past may shape us but everyday we choose a mask that has the power to molds us.