I know,
I know this won't be easy.
In fact, asking you to remain hopeful
After all this is like
A bullet piercing through your skin,
And then a gun
Placed between your two hands.
I'm aware that asking to keep
Your hopes high
When they're tied down with
Cinder blocks is such
A juxtaposition that you think
It's not even worth a try.
And I'm not asking you to do this
Because "the people in your life
Hate seeing you sad" or
"Your depression is making it really hard to talk to you-"
No.
You aren't doing this for them,
You're doing it for yourself.
YOU ARE READING
Goodbye, Pastel
PoetryI wonder is you can feel it too- The discrete pockets of sunlight Slipping through on dreary days; It warms my skin and fuels my smile. I'll keep the garden, After all. {Sequel to Fake Flowers}
