is it going to be okay.

Tell me it’s going to be okay.

I have doubts swimming laps in my mind

and my fingers are slipping off this cliff edge

and I don’t know what to do.

I’m running down an unmarked road

with no directions to guide me

and no idea when to stop

and I don’t know what to do.

My body doesn’t adapt to change well

and my mind is so used to routine

and I don’t know what to do.

I’m scared and I’m anxious

I’m nervous and I’m afraid

and the doubts keep coming

and I don’t know what to do.

I’ve already cried out to God

asking for answers

and prayed my strongest prayers

begging for guidance

and I don’t know what to do.

My stomach is bunched in knots

tighter than Boy Scouts can tie

and my heart is beating faster

than the footsteps of any runner

and I don’t know what to do.

I need reassurance and guidance

and I need someone to tell me

that it’s going to be okay,

that I’m going to be okay,

because I don’t know what to do.

  • m.f.

(un)familiarity

a lost girl

in a big world.

she takes small steps

down new corridors,

doesn’t know where to turn,

doesn’t know where to go.

she tries and fails

to find a familiar face

in a sea of unfamiliar people.

here she knows no one,

and no one knows here

because they don’t even know themselves.

yet there is something to be said

about the way they’ll talk

before they even meet her.

they’ll ask each other

who’s seen the new girl?

where did she come from?

why doesn’t she talk?

what’s her name?

why is she here?

yet they’ll never ask her to her face.

and she’ll be labeled as the new girl

for the longest time

until someone asks her

if she wants to eat lunch with them

and now she doesn’t eat alone.

then someone asks her

if she wants to study with them

and she doesn’t review notes alone.

then someone asks her

if she wants to hang out with them

and now she’s found her place here.

now she knows where to turn

and she knows where to go

and she knows people

and people know her

and maybe i’m not so lost

and maybe this world isn’t so big.

  • m.f.

“You don’t know what goes on in anyone’s life but your own. And when you mess with one part of a person’s life, you’re not just messing with that part. Unfortunately, you can’t be that precise and selective. When you mess with one part of a person’s life, you’re messing with their entire life. Everything…affects everything.”

-Thirteen Reasons Why, Jay Asher

heredity.

People tell me all the time

that I look just like my mother,

same eyes, same smile,

same face shape, same hair color.

I inherited a lot from her

and it runs deeper than looks.

I’d like to believe I also inherited her intelligence

and her kindness

and her humor,

but I’m not quite positive I did.

Sure,

I’ve been obsessed with chocolate

just like my mother

for as long as I can remember,

and we always enjoy

watching the same TV shows,

and I hate brusselsprouts

just as much as she does,

but what about the stuff

that runs even deeper than that?

I think

my lack of commitment

and my trust issues

and the absence in my eyes

can all be traced back

to my father’s genes.

Did I inherit his tendency

to drink away my problems also?

Or what about his uncanny ability to lie,

is that in me too?

All these good qualities in me

are thanks to my mother,

but I’m afraid I inherited

all of my father’s worst traits.

The only thing I can pray for now,

is that I don’t inherit his future as well.

  • m.f.

Waiting

There is a girl. She sits alone in her room, watching as life passes her by, hoping it doesn’t come knocking on her door. She spends her days painting scenes that shine more vibrantly than any piece of her life ever has, and reading books about people she was terrified of following in the footsteps of. Her father was afraid she was locking herself up too much, that it was unhealthy. She hadn’t brought a friend home in years and she hardly ever spoke. Her mother always gave a wave of her hand and dismissed the facts. She believed her daughter had simply not bloomed yet. Truth be told however, her mother was worried too, she was just too brave to show it. But up in her room, the girl knew the truth. It wasn’t that she hadn’t “bloomed” as she had bloomed quite a long time ago. The girl was so afraid of messing up in front of someone. A boy. Albeit, one she would never have, but still. He expected a perfect girl, not the messy one she was on the inside. He was expecting clear skies and a bright sun, not the hurricane brewing in her head. All she wanted was to start a conversation with him and never stop talking, but she was positive she would somehow end up saying the wrong thing. So she reverted to saying nothing at all. She just sat in her room, painting and reading, waiting for life to leave.

There is a boy. He is entirely different from the girl except for one thing: he is hopelessly, and devastatingly, and catastrophically in love with her. Everyday he tries to catch her eye and everyday he fails due to her keeping her head down and eyes forward.She thinks she has to be perfect for everyone. perfect grades, practiced smile, flawless laugh. What she doesn’t see is that she never has to be perfect for him. He wants to brave the raging storm in her mind. but she never looks his way, and he never follows. he just watches, and loves, from afar, waiting for life to pick her up.

  • e.o.

There’s 7 billion people on this planet I have not met and 195 countries I have not visited, yet I am stuck in this insignificant town being pressured into making decisions about my future when I don’t even know who I am today.

“Not everything is supposed to become something beautiful and long-lasting. Sometimes people come into your life to show you what is right and what is wrong, to show you who you can be, to teach you to love yourself, to make you feel better for a little while, or to just be someone to walk with at night and spill your life to. Not everyone is going to stay forever, and we still have to keep on going and thank them for what they’ve given us.”         – Emery Allen