this is for a boy whose heart sunk into an abysmal cavity in his chest at the age of four.
his glistening crystal core splintered at a young age. glass, however, always has charismatic characteristics. you see, shattered glass merely turns to glinting clouds of hope. it twinkles in the pale moonlight as it's carried through the still of night on a cool summer breeze. that glistening cloud of glass is the definition of aspiration. it reflects other's emotions, whether that be love or heartbreak, glee or misery, ambition or fear. it spreads through the air like a dense fume. unsuspecting bodies breathe the thick cloud. some never realize what they've inhaled. but for most, it takes them on a life altering journey. this dust-like glass truly reflects the emotions of all those who touch it. it forces people to acknowledge their dormant thoughts. glass reflects. it rebounds their own emotions onto them. the fine gloss slowly melts away from their clouded reality. for the first time, they see what is real. the glass catches in their throat, forcing them to choke, forcing them to see the anguish in his eyes. they make a decision in this moment: to cough, to acknowledge, to see, or to swallow, to ignore, to pretend. this boy with a sunken heart pleads before humanity as he takes his last breath. cough so he can breathe, or swallow so he will suffocate.
i know it's hard, watching the people around you break before your eyes. it's easier to bask in ignorance; it always has been. you think it's your fault; it's not. you are not rupturing these people; you are gifting them with the opportunity to heal. you are not the problem; you are the solution.
YOU ARE READING
Your Raspberry Lips
Poetrysurrounded by mountains that stretch for miles, the water rising to my neck. i am drained, and my leg is throbbing, my foot painstakingly twisted at an odd angle. i can no longer run. i grab the water stained pages and my ruffled pen, the ink semi-f...
