Dedicated to anyone who has drawn strength from fictional characters during hard times.
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We are eleven.
Still trying to understand how fucked-up this world is.
Alone.
Lonely? Maybe.
I know I was.
Perhaps that is why I turned to you:
You understood the world better than me.
It's a summer of innocence and laughter
Where I feel free for the first time
Since the darkness descended upon my heart.
We are fifteen.
Still not so sure what happened to the world
And what fucked it over.
But when I cry, I'm not alone.
You're by my side at night
When I face my demons and my loneliness.
I'm drowning in quicksand,
With no resistance;
I want it to swallow me whole.
But you didn't let me give up.
It was your hand that pulled me out.
We are seventeen.
Sitting on a ledge overlooking the valley,
Enjoying the silence together.
The world is still pretty fucked up
And we still don't get why.
But for now, this is enough.
The silence and the morning breeze.
The bliss that comes with being safe.
We are twenty.
Standing tall and proud.
Laughing over some stupid joke.
Still a little lonely,
But not as much as before.
We, who understood loneliness better than anyone else,
Stand in the balcony
Watching the sun go down
And disappear into the night,
Knowing that my demons do not leave,
But I will fight them.
And this time, I won't be alone.
