Struggle

I used to think the grass is greener

Over there, where you all seem to smile.

Where you’re happy, full of brightness and sound.

I saw myself not there.

 

Now, now I understand that happy and sad

Aren’t binary. It isn’t a choice between.

It isn’t so simple, we all struggle.

Maybe we’re too disconnected to see.

 

See that we’re all going upstream, slowly.

The wind and current working against us.

Gravity pulling at our legs and arms,

Sunshine beating down, cracking our frail skin.

 

We’ve forgotten how to survive this wild.

We feed on likes, false versions being sold,

Choose meticulously which story told,

Check this meme, filter on this pic – Snapchat:

 

Thankyou! Now I send an empty photo

Each day for my streak. Now I check stories

Instead of getting out and making them real.

I can’t believe, I’ve been swallowed up.

 

Sitting on my phone is the only thing

I can do some days, it is the only thing that

Makes me value realness less. I hate it.

My inner being churned, overwhelmed by

 

By something I can’t touch or attain.

It breaks my heart to remember that

I was once my mother’s child, free and young.

Now tendrils of dark cling to my being.

 

It breaks again when I know I want kids;

They will have to bear out this same struggle.

They will love, hurt, breath this thick air in.

They will learn to survive without a guide.

 

But maybe this struggle is all we have,

One hazy, blurry, messy pot of life.

All going upstream; struggling the same way.

We struggle together, defiantly.

 

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