I remember when I was seven, and my first grade teacher was a retired lady with white hair and a kind voice.
And I remember the way your hair floated out of the window on the bus when we were eight years old
And the years flew by.
The sky grew closer as we grew taller
And his favorite color was Red. Either brilliant and alluring, or a warning sign in my face.
And the way I crashed into nothingness and late nights, drinking tears like drugs
And wondered why the stars seemed so far away
And I mourned for days for people I'll never see again
Either dead, or dead to me.
But I know a guy
Whose eyes change colors from day to day
I could've sworn they were green
But now they're hazel like my mother's
And I can feel them on my face sometimes
And he feels like familiarity and lullabies
And I don't know why
And I know someone who's a summer storm
Trapped in a person,
And his voice, and anger, and eyes
All roll like thunder clouds
But there's stability built somewhere in there
And I'm not scared
And another one,
Who's laugh carries equal parts happiness and pain.
And my teacher's eyes and smile
carry both comfort and intelligence
And I have a best friend
I stay up late for.
And these people make me smile
And for once, my mouth doesn't feel so caged
And my eyes are dry
And the sun is shining again,
And for once I don't mind.
I don't know where I'm heading,
But I'm starting to think
That maybe I'm about to arrive.
-Autumn// And I Want You To Know I Am Happy.
