Serious Sixteen
I'm kind of copping out on this picture. It is very meaningful and it makes me laugh, because I know that me taking pictures of my bruises and wounds are absurd. It's kind of running joke that I've always just done, ever since phones could take pictures. It is Christmas Eve however, and things are incredibly busy. I literally have had no time to get things done, much less slow down and appreciate the finer things in life. Soon though, very soon. The wall is nearly complete!! We are taking a break for the holiday and letting our wounds heal and muscles calm down. I did write a poem while I was at work today. I was trying to destress during my break from all of the rude holiday travelers
Here it be:
Whispered revocations intertwined amongst mumbled conversations
A veritable symphony of justifications that seem just slightly out of sync
Muscles that twinge and remind your body of feathered memories
A chain of weak links
Remember to feed yourself unsure assurances of better days when you
absorbed motivational quotes that always looked prettier than they sounded.
Not applicable to real life
Merely wallpaper for a windowless room, equipped with a spoon and covered in dirt
Keep digging in rhythm to the heart that beats bloody hope down filthy hands
Someone is bound to find the predicament beautiful
The worth to feel loved cannot be unearthed, it must be grown in the lungs
that the brain forgets about.