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.