Pandora

So like the story goes, at the bottom of the box of all the bad things...there was hope. Without it we would not have the strength to fight. We could not conquer sickness, hardships, heartaches, losses, or our fears if we didn't have that 4 letter word. Something that is meant as a punishment or sorrow can actually be a way to remind us that hope was placed in that box, too.


There is light up ahead, and I don't have to run to it. Walking will get me there just fine. And I'll be able to smell the lilacs.

Bad seed.

Every apple tree has a bad one. Smooth on the outside, but get to the core and it's rotting.

Falling apart from the inside out. You won't see it until you break its skin. 

Together

I've got all my books lined up in a row. Hard covered, clean spine, alphabetized. I always have my bed made. The throw blanket at the end has been flattened. I've got the dishes done, and the plants have all been watered. Every antique find has been meticulously placed in a casual way. There is symmetry, balance, and all the right things in all the right places. I've got all these nice artifacts I've spent all this nice money on. If you would look at me you would think this girl has got it all together.

Casualty

If they say words are like knives, mine are like grenades.


The damage is away from me but the syllables fly back like shrapnel. I put up my shied and duck down. The scratches are only superficial, but I've always been a slow healer. Don't believe it? Take a look at my knee.

Aristocracy

I make a prince feel like a pauper, and a pauper feel like a prince.


I'm screaming that I'm the queen, with more than the mirror to convince.

On the Down Low.

Don't you get tired of trying to catch up? Holding your breath to remain subversive? Hunting the cool before it hunts you. Do you know who you really are?

Morrissey and Ian Curtis are taken already.

Subculture.

Subterranean.

Subordinate.



Living life on the down low.

So long.

We were standing back to back waiting for the whistle to be blown. On your mark, get set, go.


Rushing away from each other as fast as we could and sneaking glances over our shoulders. In the race together, but with different finish lines.

We ran for miles. Pounding hearts and beads of sweat rolling off our necks. You weren't wearing the proper shoes because you didn't have them now.  We both saw the end in sight and with steps to go we were pulled back. Retracted like a slingshot.


All this time running away from each other and we had to find out the hard way that this whole time our spines have been attached with a rubber band.