And when life becomes the longest thing you have ever experienced;
the most difficult essay you have ever written;
the most somber song you have ever performed,

 

This is when you should change the burnt light bulb that you let hang from your bedroom ceiling;

 

This is when you should contact the number on the back of the pamphlet that your school counselor gave you that one day when the bad thing happened;

 

This is when you should self-identify as a person in need of help;

 

It is not a bad thing to need help;

 

This is when you should compliment your mother for how beautiful she is; she is asleep in her bedroom, and you are on the other side of the house;

 

This is when you should constantly revise the letter that you have finished writing; that you intend to be your last;

 

This is when you should read the prescription bottle for the suggested dosage and think about returning some of the contents back to their proper place;

 

This is when you should consider rereading that Charles Dickens book, despite the fact that you hated it the first time through;

 

This is when you should change the burnt light bulb that you let hang from your bedroom ceiling for far too long;

 

and when life becomes the longest thing you have ever experienced, think about your grandparents; the ones that you never met, and how they really don’t want to meet you, in this moment, in this mindset, in this stadium that we call existence;

 

When the comedy has done away with the laugh track that drowned out the silence, think about how they will call your death a tragedy rather than a symphony;

 

When the ceiling fan becomes far too tempting to ignore, when the pill bottle seems far more relatable when it’s empty, when you think that the bullet would send a much louder message than you ever could, do not empty the cartridge into a still beating heart;

 

Do not end your sentence with a comma;

 

If you are not being heard, then you have not spoken loud enough;

 

If it has become too dark to see, change the light bulb; change the light bulb; change the light bulb;

 

Do not be afraid to skip the chapter where the main character breaks;

 

Do not be afraid to burn the dead tree looming over you in your back yard;

 

Do not be afraid to dig up the old broken bones that you buried underneath it;

 

Do not be afraid;

 

Your father always said to you “we are the architects of our own happiness,” but you have always been lousy at math and good timing;

 

Remember, that architecture is not two-dimensional, nor is it single handed;

 

We build off of each other, banding our broken arms together;

 

We find ourselves driven to that same sempiternal horizon;

 

We create the groundwork for something marvelous, something that tapestry has not engulfed;

 

Something that poetry has not restricted to words;

 

Something the painters have not properly identified, the color scheme skewed;

 

You are the architect; you are the construction worker;  you are the residence of this cruel and unforgiving heaven on earth;

 

Remember, do not end your sentence with a comma, do not end your sentence with a period,

Do not end your sentence;

 

There is so much beauty in life, look;

 

The constellations you see made out of the raindrops on your windshield;

 

The symmetry between the mother and daughter walking down the sidewalk to your right;

 

The luminosity of the streetlamp that you used to write poetry about when you were in eighth grade;

 

and when life seems like the longest thing you have ever experienced;
the most difficult essay you have ever written;
the most somber song you have ever sang,

 

let the chapter end, knowing that here is not where the main character breaks;
this is not where the main character breaks;
this is not where you break;