dear oliver,
i’ve figured it out.
humans, we silly creatures,
are afraid of accepting ourselves,
loving ourselves, and in believing
ourselves.
once a little person comes
scrolling through your life,
and they point out a valuable
trait through the deep pile of
flaws, once they prove themselves
worthy of our trust, of our
genuine smiles, we take the
risk of believing them.
and then what happens?
we risk curiosity, we risk
the insecurity boundaries,
we throw ourselves naked
at the world, bare of any
sadness and sorrows, only
to face the cruelty and hatred
of those who proclaim to
hold true beauty. only
to be brought down by
those who say they
are standing on the other
side, ready to catch and
reach for your
fingertips as the bridge
shakes underneath
your skin.
and then what?
you fall.
quinn
YOU ARE READING
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PoetryQuinn scribbles tainted emotions across thin layers of white paper. But to who? To someone who blinks once, sees her, and blinks again-just to make her disappear. To someone who sees her as a symbol of the ocean. To someone who thinks the ocean is...
