yejunee

when you're a kid, your birthday's all you dream of 
'cause you dream of helium balloons and chocolate cake 
the kind of wrapping bow like a rose made of ribbon 
your whole family singing off-key 

here is a truth: you will not survive this. 

you are not the person your parents created. cells replace themselves every seven years and you possess a whole new physical form.

there are days like a tangled ball of yarn 
where everything seems twisted, gnarled, 
doomed to never unravel. 

and that's alright. 

we're all messes, aren't we? 

i'm sorry, Atlas, the sky must weigh so much 
on your shoulders. 
don't let go. not yet. it will kill everyone, if you let go. 

a punishment, the gods called it, 

in the end, there is a person you'd walk through hell for 
because you know the fire is worth it. 
but death is so common now, don't you think? 
teenagers die every day to their own self-destruction,