At twenty-eight I’ve put away childish things.
I still believe that people get what they earn
and reap what they sow.
I still believe in fairy-tales, dragons,
and monsters in the dark.
I still believe in white knights and glass slippers.
I still believe in true love
and good conquering all.
I still believe
but in the past ten years I’ve learned
that believing something doesn’t make it real.
The desire or expectation that life is to be lead with immediacy and moments are to be responded to instantly with little time for reflection, meditation, or the process of simply “being”.
I think this is where I’m supposed to tell you why I’m unhappy.
I’m staring up at a bright white moon listening to the crickets trying to find the words to say that I don’t love you anymore. I used to mean it when I said it but I think we just aren’t the same people we were when we met and people change and grow and sometimes they just don’t grow together. And I’m sorry and I hate that you can’t hear the hurt I’m causing you because I’m too unsure of how to speak these words out loud because even though I’m don’t love you anymore I can’t stand to see you hate me. I swear I’m trying but the words just won’t come out. I can see it on your face that you know I want to say something. You’re looking into my eyes right now and its breaking my heart because I want to reassure you that everything is fine but it isn’t and you look so in love…
I … So … I’ve got nothing.
Knowing when to cover up is
Knowing to cover up in front of
is you bringing me shame.
Today is one of those days that I wish I could cry.
Even just a tear or two.
It has to feel better than the heavy smile I keep dragging up my face.