#sometimesiwritestuff

I have mixed feelings about everything This beautiful university – makes me feel like an unfinished page in a coloring book and the illegible scrawling on a bathroom stall that so clearly, so unclearly, are words of encouragement This sweet, energizing coffee – has become a dependency, a weary blizzard of half-closed eyes and the intense craving of bitterness on my tongue These organized flower beds—were so expensive, yet hungry children cannot be nourished by their sweet nectar by looking with their eyes, but at least; these students who tried harder than you by taking advantage of the privilege that you didn’t have, they; can have something to take for granted when they walk into their Eurocentric history class These intelligent textbooks— seem to be written by mechanical humans taught by utopia that there is only one way to learn, only one way to identify who deserves to fully reach their goals, but clearly, we’re not all smart enough to confine our life solutions with artificial pencil led into a centimeter wide window of opportunity These passionate groups of awareness and activism –only mean that there’s something unjust to be acted upon. I’ll hold the signs, but does that mean you’ll read me? I’ll scream in solidarity but does that mean you’ll hear me? I’m just that song that you haven’t heard over enough to have a meaning. These hardworking, strong parents – are driven and mighty only because they were once weak, once conquered, and dammit, don’t you forget that you hurt me. Pressed teeth against the face of someone who was already suffering, like pulling rusty nails from a home and watching that home crumble. I bet you didn’t think that the damaged had the ability to maintain stability. But you, Darling, you. You are the only thing I am sure of. With you I have no questions, only answers and these answers are so much louder than the erasable scratches I can make on a three hour exam into my future. I am not wondering if you can read the goose bumps on my skin like braille because you feel me. You feel my thirst for coffee before I can open my half-closed eyes and watch me dismantle rosebuds into explosions so that the petals surround us, allowing somebody to truly see what it’s like to feel like one of many but willing to detonate for the sake of perspective. I have mixed feelings about everything, but darling, not you.