1:33 AM thoughts

It is late and it is dark and it is cold. I am alone with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company. There are words needed to be said and realities to confront, but instead of being brave, I end up conjuring my very own little bubble of paradise. It is my escape route, my happy place. I close my eyes and I am there. It is only for the time being. It will end, this I know to be true. But at least for now, it isn’t late and it isn’t dark and it isn’t cold.

Y

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hustisya

May your actions haunt you for the rest of your days. May you listen to your conscience no matter how low it whispers. May you still manage to find your humanity at the very bottom of your soul. For you are now branded as cowards and murderers. Be aware that this is a test of what matters most. You all know what the right thing to do is. Have the fucking balls to do it.

Y

The Crossroads

We are walking in a silence that used to be familiar and safe. We are now strangers who know each other the most. And as we place one foot after the other, the sound of leaves crunching beneath our shoes, our steps no longer in sync, we both silently wonder… how did it ever come to this?

Talk,” you finally say, your voice calm and defeated. You are terrified. I am too. This conversation is long overdue. “And I’ll listen.”

I shake my head because that’s what we are, that’s what we do. We are polar opposites. We contradict. We collide.

Ask,” I murmur enough for you to hear. “And I’ll answer.”

You smile, it was once my favorite smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

I hold my breath, waiting for your response. I clench my hands into fists so you won’t see how tremendously they’re shaking.

We have gone so far on this path we chose to take. We have danced to hundreds of love songs and slain thousands of dragons. But we are almost at the the crossroads and we are both aware that upon reaching it, we will be going our separate ways. For our destinations are no longer the same.

I take your hand in mine one last time and I do not intend to let go until the final second. Although this is not the ending we expected, we are ending our journey the way we started it. Together.

You open your mouth to speak.

And I am ready. We both are.

Y

Voiced Thoughts

When people tell me that I think too much,
I think,
Oh, honey, you don’t even know the half of it.”
Yes, I think it,
not utter the words for you to hear.
Am I depriving you
of the bittersweet pleasure
of my unvoiced thoughts?
Or saving you from hearing
just how much I question everything?
How much my thoughts go from
I wonder what I’ll be having for lunch later to
I wonder what it feels like to die?
To no longer breathe
and exist.
Is it really true
that your entire life
flashes right before your very eyes?
Is it kind of like going to sleep, or an endless dream?
But knowing that you’ll never wake up?
I question the pettiest things like
was orange
first a fruit or a color?
Why is it called a “building” when
it’s already built?
I wonder why pink is for girls
while blue is for boys.
Isn’t that a little unfair?
Why is life so unfair?
I wonder how the people
who we call our public officials
whose empty promises we’ve been hearing nonstop
get to sleep at night
when there are people out on the street
begging for money or for food.
And I wonder how I turn a blind eye
every time they ask.
I question good days and bad days.
I question the existence of racism, sexism,
cancer, corruption, wars and so much more.
I question how words were first formed.
Why is love called love?
Did the genius who
thought of joining the letters
L,
O,
V,
and E
knew that such a word would be one of the things
we’d live and fight for?
Was love first a word or was it first felt?
Sometimes I think my thoughts
can save the world,
Sometimes I think my thoughts won’t
contribute a thing to society.
Sometimes, I think.. my thoughts will forever remain inside my head.
Unvoiced.
Unheard.
Unwritten.
Screaming, wanting, needing,
to be voiced, heard, and written.
But for now,
I let my thoughts eat me up
and consume me.
Day by day.
Slowly.
Carefully.


When people tell me that I think too much,
I am this close to asking,
Why aren’t you?”

-Y