wash up

i don’t recognize You anymore.
i haven’t since the fall.
i look in the mirror and see apathy
hanging like swaying fruit

golden hay draped Your face
and Your hugs were like if
a vestal campfire could
warm your soul.

petal-pink bloomed among Your skin
like the knockout roses did
in Your mother’s garden
soft and smooth and unharmed.

blue-jays nested in Your eyes.
azure lovebirds sprang and danced
and sung a tune that is now
long forgotten.

i haven’t been felling too hot lately, if you couldn’t tell.  without the distraction of theatre, i am now subjected to my least favorite thing in the world [the human psyche].  and as i wake up every morning to get ready, i start recognizing myself less, and realize that i have let the weight of school and society tear me apart; leaving nothing but grey, blurred out fever-dreams of who i used to be, and what it meant to be happy.  Before any of you start worrying for me, don’t.  Writing this poem only inspired me more to finally overcome this feeling of “apathy”.

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