9-19-2016
I know people who look at me like I’m nothing more than the sun. I show up. I smile. I don’t whine. I don’t pout. I have fun. They say the sun doesn’t lie. There is light only because I refused to have a bad day. I am a lying sun. My aura is exhausted. It’s exhausting to fake happiness… I guess if I fake it long enough, it’ll be real, you know? Besides the sun. I know some who views me like an open ended apology bleeding blue into the sea. I’m always saying sorry. I don’t tell you when I’m crying, but when I do, I hope you can accept me. I get like this often, I’m sorry, I know it’s a handful. I got it from someone. I used to be insensitive to my sensitivity, but the more you give and the more you lose… you’re a wine glass and yeah… you’re empty… but depression has been pouring mountains attempting to break you, and yeah, you might shatter… Some days, I’m glowing red. Some nights, I’m reflecting blue. I know I’m not lovely, but on days when I’m both… I hope I balance the violets of your sunrise.
– drying my tears
