head mess | poetry

| missing from my hands |

i decide to sit outside after school, and i choose to look up all on my own. i see a part in the clouds, and there is a little pond of blue sky up there. in the middle of the blue lies the yellow; there is a golden orb of light shining down on me.

this is not me in the mirror, i realize this sadly. for it is the sun! the beautiful sun! no beauty compares to it. nothing i know of shines brighter than that.

in the light of day, i can feel something missing from my hands. and i see the palms of my hands are bleeding, because i try to hold the sun. i try to keep something lively close to me, but its inevitable for it to die out. the sun burned out in my hands.

i try to be everyone's light. i try to be the happiness. i try so hard and i seem to end up in a dark hole, where the sun doesn't shine. where the air is cold and my palms are dirty. where no one loves me, not even the sun.

that's my problem, i know it now. i am a people pleaser. and everyone knows what they say about them. they'll only end up sad and alone! so, my lord! i will end up sad and alone if i continue on like this!

i decide to look up, and i see the sun again and i see how much it looks like me. yes, we are going to be happy one day. yes, i am going to be the sun one day. yes, i will be someone's light and happiness one day. yes, yes, yes.

yet still, i see my bloody palms and see something missing from my hands. and i have to look up to find it and make sure it's still there.

[r.k]