and yes there is no happy ending
for some
there is always
the split.
the sea parting like a zipper,
unveiling this vulnerable heart.
it might've started at the first sign of trouble but also might've never started.
instead it just
was?
17 years and there it was
like
maybe it was never born just
there
appearing in a puff of smoke.
for others
it is a progression
a slow unraveling?
a show they never paid to watch
but still had to witness.
a murder of the childhood
in second degree.
yet
still,
for me?
it is a broken heart,
a lack of work or working:
a hefty load to bear.
and that’s just life
Maybe you're not the protagonist
Or the antagonist.
Maybe you are the other girl
Or the plot device
Or the passerby.
Maybe you are the girl who makes him realize he loves her
Or the girl who puts her pride aside and tells him to run through the airport to find her
Or the girl who struggles to keep him even though he and she are meant to be.
Maybe you are sitting at the next table
While a love story unfolds next to you.
Drinking your coffee.
Maybe everyone else is living in a movie
And you are an extra.
Maybe you’re the best friend who sacrifices everything so she can get her happily ever after
And you smile
And wave
And maybe go off to college with her or stand next to her at the altar.
But you are never complete
You are never that one.
Maybe you get a happy ending but
Chances are
You don’t.
“it’s not a big deal”
so what if?
what if
you are the end of the world?
what if
it doesn't matter how many lives you see pass by every day.
what if
the problem
is that you are only thinking of
how everyone else
has more points than you
in the
cruel
game.
that maybe,
if you stopped counting, you wouldn't have so many.
like
if you let yourself cry
just for you,
maybe you'd remember that you are worth something more than a
box.
what if the trick is:
you are sad. i know you're sad. you can be sad.
you are allowed.
you are human.
and certainly that should be enough.
certainly, that should be enough.