No.71: Things I (Will) No Longer Need (in 2019)
Things I (Will) No Longer Need (in 2019)
Awards. Compliments. Starburst Gummies. The pedestal you chained me to. A relationship for the sake of it. Your rusty two cents. Your opinion on my character. Your apology. Your approval. The perceived status boost that came with our friendship. Soda. A chance to flex on my exes. Your body. Your worship. The drama. Your respect. Attention. Late night conversations with narrow minds. And loose lips. And looser hips. Your empathy. Your proper perception of my personhood. A black card. A fresh start. My code switching handbook. A six-pack. An excuse to be a savage. A tragedy before I empathize. To fear my honesty. Or truncate my name. Or sanitize my poetry and pain and scowl for caucasian comfort. More dialogue. More debates. More discussions on the same stupid things with the same deaf ears. To prove myself. Or stop complaining. Or hide the juice overflowing from this cup. Or my flaws. Or my God. That pillow-soft, rest in pieces, homies for life until we not kinda love. Permission to bleed. Permission to feel. Permission to be. Permission.