Often not to our loved ones, our acquaintances or even enemies.
It’s not a goodbye to lust, anger, regret or what could have been. Our hardest goodbye is to ourselves.
To the child within us, the one that learnt through the heartache and pain this world gives us that we are not safe, the goodbye to our innocence, goodbye to our naivety.
We watch as young grow older, we see the eyes change. The color gets darker, we use the word wiser, all while turning to religion, communities and towns with a safety rating higher than the vehicle taking them to the very place that will cause that wisdom to be exposed to the very eyes that were laid on you. National or Labour the rooms outcome changed your life, the countries and communities for an angel was brought down that day.
7 minutes, heaven, hell or thirty flirty and thriving? Locations active, hormones high and st ives recycling as the bin is no longer your stomach. Our image, our value, yet that last piece of pizza still haunts you.
We say ‘longer, higher, protection is necessary’ we talk of predators, Kevin Peter Hall a bystander in this original.
Knowing glances, victim a word used by many, social accounts made, cases made, and phones only covered, degrees covering trauma yet don’t we all qualify?
Art degrees risky and dust accumulating while the guarantee of a royal flush lines these walls, therapy for those who only need it yet a parent without flaws?
Our world enlargens, the credit exceeds,the mirror fades, it tarnishes. We see worlds alike our own, we meet people somehow the same as previous. Parallel or Parnell, this cafe sells the same coffee.
A child taken, the choice unmade, the innocence held, the foot of God, Jesus where they play. Pedicures paid, flight tickets in inboxes as the knowledge of this world’s currency plays, for purgatory isn’t unlike dubai.
Instant dopamine hits as souls die, wisdom increases and your fluency is perfect. Innocence taken or given?
The string tightens, it lifts, the dirt flies up as the game begins, a war simply starts as a whistle blows, biceps, forearms, calves all clench. Tugging at the rope, unsure on which side you want to win.
A therapist's account increases as the darkness we call wisdom discolors a once bright, doe eyed child. As they too say goodbye to apart that will never return.
