Save Your Scissors

It is my greatest wish that everything I touch, I can bring peace and beauty to it. I want so desperately for love to triumph. I want to be the strong one, the one that makes you feel like everything will be okay. I want to be excited because you’re different or you’re changing, and equally as happy with my own differences and changes. But the degree to which I wish for these things only brings more panic and chaos. Sometimes, it is too difficult to be the strong one, to be the interesting, happy, peaceful one. Sometimes, I just need someone else to tell me that everything will be okay, to kiss me on the forehead, and tell me I’m wonderful. I want to light up the world, but my flame is burning out.

Barreling down a long stretch of freeway, on your way home from a place you used to know. The chill of the October air ironically warms your heart, and the sky is smeared with neon pinks and chalky blues, with bursts of a warm citrus glow. So bright and beautiful, you can almost taste its flavor.

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