she is sippin' cream soda on her little yellow bed, the walls surrounding her are the palest pink and the window shades are the whitest white, and everything is so monochromatic- so impersonal. her hand has a pen scrunched up inside, letting loose a thousand words that pour out her insides, in messy swirls and curls of letters that are hard to make much sense of. light slides in through the shades, and millions of tiny specks of dusts dance in its presence. she slides her hand through the light, and watches it as it bends and falls upon her pale skin, she is dancing in the forlorn sun beams. they play across her face, and at night the moon beams spray across her cheeks, she is a child of light, a child of brightness forever more.
she kisses boys and they always swear she tastes like summer sunlight and oranges, the sweetest taste to the lustful lips. then they leave, not because she is not enough, more of because she is too much. she is layers and layers and layers, a composition of landmarks and maps and places most people never visit, most people become overwhelmed by her presence. she is the walking sun on earth. she always complains about how no one looks at her, but she does not see the curious eyes who dare to stare into the sun, only to turn away before she catches their wondering glances. the sun is powerful, the sun is a force not to be reckoned with.
but though her eyes are loud and her voice is quiet, the words flowing from pen to paper are personal. they are chromatic, illuminated by her light and they will forever shine.
she is surrounded by people who are sinking in darkness. the darkness once plagued her side, but she soon realized that we are only as we think we are. we are only sad if we think so, only happy if we think so. thinking turns to believing, believing is becoming. if you believe that you are happy then you will be happy- forever. the trick is to not let the darkness feel upon your skin at night, do not let the shadows do anything except harbor sleep. in the morning, when the sun rises, open your blinds and breathe in the sunlight, and know that you are everlasting. you have fallen and you have risen, you have shined and you have disappeared, you have become such a beautiful human being throughout these past few years and even though you may not realize it, all you have to do is open your eyes and know that your insides contain sunlight, your lungs contain oxygen, your mind contains these cultivated thoughts and all you have to do is decide that you want to be happy and work towards that.
being happy is not a bad thing, you know. smile, without fear, and without hesitation. you are sunlight, just like her, my dear, you are beautiful.
- SUNBEAMS AND SMILES
[or in which a teenage girl decided that happiness is, in fact, attainable.]
"we are only as we think we are."
