I see the sky, clouds cover up the sun as it hides behind. I wonder why it’s still so bright, that when I look up it tends to sting my eyes. I can see my old school from where I stand, a part of me I left behind. High above on the rooftop of my parents house, the weather’s nice, that’s my excuse to be up here. Delicate and seemingly countable round droplets of water fall from the sky as I try to rub them away with my thumb, trying to piece together my thoughts, put them into place before they fly away with the wind, it seems to be quite fierce today.
I spent so much time looking for the rare and the unseen, I forgot sometimes simplicity holds the most of surprise. Expectations aren’t the most liable of things I’ve learned, they can make you feel like you’re high above, touching the clouds and traveling through space having time frozen for you in its place. Only to drop you from wavering heights. You watch your body flicker like a light bulb right before it bursts into flames. And it’s those expectations that lead you to crumble as you fall, fragments of your existence falling out of place, pieces you might never be able to put back together.
Expectations I’ve learned are poison pressed into cotton candy sticks, lollipops and God does it burn, when the taste of candy melts away to give your tongue a bitter twist, a pinch to pull you back and a reminder of exactly what you lack. To not expect. But to hold back.-H