juno

instead you cover everyone in stardust

“do you want to kill yourself” she says in the same tone as when she asked about where i go to school i pause i turn away, looking out the window how did you answer this? i know what you think, but i don’t know how you would have put it into those beautiful words of yours i can’t imagine you being honest like this. it breaks my heart that you have to be honest like this to someone else the birds flutter by, and i wonder what they would have answered. do birds want to end their life in the sky and the trees? do they wish for one below the ground? do they see all they could have been, all their beautiful feathered potential, and feel a loathing for everything that made them like this? do they see all the other birds, their wings extended in confident flight, and curse their own? for even if they let them fly, it will never be as graceful as the others? do they feel the wind on their face and smell the salt air and feel a high that nicotine could never beat? do they finally listen to the songs that their friends sing for them and feel transported back to roads they have never been? do they pause and observe the sun particles floating through the tree and try to remember the japanese word for it? (komorebi) do they feel their friends heartbeat as they shuffle their bodies together and remember that everyone else is alive, alive, alive? do they wish that they had never been born? i take a deep breath “not today”

one day maybe i’ll like myself. maybe i’ll see something pretty in my jawline, or i’ll laugh at my jokes, or i’ll be happy for myself for getting a good grade. one day i’ll find myself interesting, not just some girl who feels too much and has to turn everything into a metaphor. one day i’ll look back on all those heartbreaking memories and laugh a little, because it’s actually kind of funny how much i cared about careless people. one day i’ll see you and think “good for you! you worked so hard and i’m happy for you”. one day i’ll be better, i swear.