Poems, Imagines, and Quotes

Future

The sunlight fanned through the leaves littered with different shades of green, where the rays settled on the grass that grew ten feet high. The little boy with his blonde hair smiled as he held his palm up to the sun and only then was he able to the see the red of his blood pumping throughout his hand. This fascinated him for he giggled delightedly and sighed as he laid back in a little clearing against a tree trunk he had made for himself. He knew here, in the midst of all the hearts beating just as his did with love and harmony, only then did he realize he could think clearly and unlimitedly.

He was intelligent for his age, him only experiencing eleven short years of his life that he was capable to live. He knew the people that he lived beside in this world looked down upon him, for they all thought innocence bled through his every action, that he was not adequate to yet know the tainted ways of the world quite yet. What they didn't know was that he already knew. He already knew the lies and sin that they tried to hide from him, he already knew how deadly the word love was. He also knew it wasn't a word, it was a feeling, more than that really, something not anyone could describe. In the impending dystopia of the people around him though, he kept love as only a word in his vocabulary, one held quite highly in his mind.

The world was a ticking time bomb the blonde boy had concluded. It was only a matter of time before everyone turned against everyone. His parents had already turned against one another and there was not a good friend he knew of that had parents that still lived in the bubble of pure joy and devotion that love brought. This had always been his insight into the huge world, his own little world. The one where he used to live happily and where he was carefree. It had now turned into one filled with anxiousness and one where he was sad most of the time.

He was sad that his parents didn't care about him enough to stay in his own little world. He was sad that his mom had decided she wanted nothing to do with him, nothing besides feeling better that her money paved his future. He was sad that his dad was alone, alone with him. He was sad about his life, about what would happen next. He'd decided that nothing good lasted, nothing that was worth lasting.

And if nothing worth lasting didn't last, then how would the lives of so many matter in the future. Soon, he wouldn't matter. Soon, his life wouldn't matter. Soon, his existence wouldn't matter. For now, he wasn't okay with that but as he looked up into the sun where he knew his corneas would be damaged in the near future and where oblivion doesn't even matter, he knew he would be okay with it.