it’s one thing
to prop up the smiles and
strategically avoid gazes and
turn twisted circles in your head
searching for answers, for justification
in one of those decorated corners
weighing the broken pieces and
knowing the pieces broke wholeheartedly, unevenly.
it’s not okay, nor is it remotely fine, because actions have consequences that often aren’t anticipated.
maybe they’ll learn.
it’s another thing entirely to sit down,
let it hit you like a sporadic rain and
absorb shock after shock, and
ultimately come to terms with the fact that,
inevitably, something is missing.
and it’s another thing to work hard;
passively hard and,
ache to fill that spot and,
to look in a mirror and be okay
with what’s tearing up back at you, knowing that change
change is gonna come, some way, somehow.
it’s a thing that’s long awaited,
but knocked out in bits and
shattered, piece by piece and
conquered with every passing day as you realize–
that the new reality,
in all of its vibrant colors
and labyrinth emotions
and electric moments
unfolding before you
are *so* much better, so much clearer, so much less clouded, than the faded, ostensible hodgepodge zone of comfort
like dirty water in a vase of expectation
you had merely filled into.