it's a good day to cry

i remember hearing this voice when the sun shone warm through the window and i could close my eyes and hear you sing. days like today when the rain feels like kisses and the wind sounds like whispers. things are fine. but you want to cry. i do. i could cry until my body wasted away. a million years could pass. and you'd find me sitting on the sidewalk staring at the sky, my eyelids fighting the raindrops with romantic disregard. some things you can't explain. like the urge to disappear. you feel it when you've lost all other reasons to write a letter. when the simple things in life eradicate. and your mind is left hollow and corrosive. the imagery i derive from elements like rain, hands, and eyes, warms the very fibre of my being. you could be a million miles away and still feel my heart beat. it’s embedded in all of our souls, the ability to feel another’s pain, to cry another’s tears, and to hate another’s hate. created solely by a force called bond. the only antagonist in this romantic novel of life is the complexity of a fear called brokenness. something we all have come to hate and fear. the times when you feel even walking seems like you're on your knees. brokenness. brokenness and separation. some of my biggest fears. loneliness. the simple spelling of that word makes my stomach turn. the taste of darkness at 12 in the afternoon. when the earth is cold. when all things are hard and jagged to the touch. and no one calls your name. desolation. i would run from it like a demon from truth. i hate loneliness. it scares me with undeniable passion. i fear it more than death. and in turn it has owned my existence. it controls my thoughts and my actions undeniably. it dictates my decisions and my desires. i would do anything to avoid loneliness. now you know my weakness. now you know the secret entrance to the opaque fortress of my heart. so sneak in. aim to kill. i'll fight you to the death. never let go of what keeps you safe. never let go of the hand that dries your tears. it gets colder in this palace of talent. as the weeks crawl by, the air becomes dry, the food becomes tasteless and the songs become empty. it’s inevitable. you sing with reckless abandon, and yet, you feel as though the world is waiting with guns and opinions. u try not to let it affect you. but you cannot hide from inevitability. you cannot alter the course of recklessness. the choke show starts promptly at 8. and it is live to air. 3 second delay. three seconds. that’s not even enough time to hide your gag reflex from the world and your parents. this is the game we play. the life we lead. the life we've chosen. you can't go back. but you can definatly pretend. we call those people fools. getting ahead in life doesn't mean pretty cars and bit tits. getting ahead in life is growing strong. taking your stupid-ass mistakes, and learning from them. deriving the knowledge from a screw up is more useful than reading a damn book. trust me. i've done a lot of both. i hate reading. i love screwing up. not really. take your mistakes and learn from them. you grow strong, you grow complete. you grow up. you can have your fast cars and your big tits. i'll keep to myself and watch you trip over your pretty new shoes again and again. just keep your heads on kids. remember where you came from. 'in this great future you can't forget your past' a lot of people have trouble fitting their heads in a standard doorway these days. they are their own biggest fans. just wear goggles, i hear it’s pretty brutal when a head explodes. the calamity of oblivion will course through all of us. its only in rising above the idiocy that in our foolish ways do we truly see what is and is not worth crying over. climb with me. fly with me. it’s a good day to cry.

"it's a good day to cry"