A misty shadow standing on the concrete.
"What does your mother call you?"
"I don’t have a mother."
Two holes above the concrete smile.
I just faked a cold to get out of church tomorrow. Sorry I’m not sorry.
Am I over you…
…if I cry when I see your picture?
…if I can’t help thinking it might not be over?
I need people
I wear my heart on my sleeve
and give it to whoever
offers a smile
So I gave you my heart
and then you either
run or drift away and
I’m left with
The photo of a dead soldier
haunting, breaking hearts
as the war tore the country apart.
A man dying
to fight against his brothers.
Then they told me
you spent the day moving his body
playing with his resting place
manipulating our emotions
with the smell of blood
and the weight of a camera on your back.
Tell his story, then let him
rest in peace.
Beautiful thoughts are like bubbles, if you try to hold onto them, they pop.
When I was little
my brother and I built our future out of Legos
bricks and dreams piling high,
every color but never could we reach the yellow road.
We ruled the world only to find the world had rules
paint on a smile and don’t talk about your Legos.
When I was learning to read
my country was learning to grieve
as we lost two Lego towers and the dreamers who built them.
My dad saw those Legos fall
but now he can’t see my Legos at all.
When I started watching other children play with Legos
I learned that other families weren’t like ours.
They didn’t build in a corner with the door closed.
Trying to block out the screams, brick by brick.
They didn’t need their Legos as much as I did,
because only with plastic could I build a life all my own.
When I studied for my first exam
I watched my little sister play with Legos.
But each week she has to start again
Because now she has two sets of Legos.
One for each half of her heart
living far apart.
When I run away
I won’t take my Legos with me
because in the end
all they do is fall apart.