They say: if you only smile long enough you can
fool yourself into happiness. I wonder if these
years of failure mean that I am very clever, or just
very sad. They say: Fake it until you make it, but
they never tell you what do you when you wake
one morning, early, to realize you've spent so many
years fleshing out this mask that nothing of
substance lives underneath. They say: you could be
so many things. They say: here is what we would
choose for you; here is what settles our hearts, so
that we may sleep peacefully, while your thoughts
spin into the lush night. They do not say: here is
who you are. Here is who you will be. Here is
your heart; feel its rhythm in your palms, here are
your dearest wishes, refracting light a row of
long abandoned bottles. Here is how you
read the secrets buried deep within the fevered
Technicolor of your haunted dreams. They
do not say: here is how you stumble with
dignity. Here is how you fail and survive it.
They do not say: we see you. We love you.
Through our anger, through our fear, through our
mismatched, discordant hope. They assume
you know, yet here you lie, spilling your mind
into the shadows and wondering if there exists
some far-off day when sleep will come easy.