Everything is Awesome.
Words used to camouflage the inner workings of my tormented mind amidst the rush of peers and strangers, seemingly so at ease.
“How are you, Kay?”
“Awesome. Yea, everything is awesome.”
I stare away; hide my face
Digging for something nonexistent in my bag to hide any indication of my white lie.
Tucking it away behind my charade of contentment.
I continue to dig into my bag, desperately gripping and clawing at my desire to appear
But my thoughts seep out of my ears down my arms like a delicate stream of water seamlessly emanating from a faucet, smudging the edges of my masquerade, disintegrating my disguise.
Filling my bag like a pool and overflowing onto the floor they fill the room.
I am just starting to explore my life, drowning in debt
A tiny bird with a kettle bell tied to its foot.
Overmedicated; but still bare the signs of depression.
Exhausted. Isolated. Angry.
Everything Is Awesome
The familiarity of the words coat my skin like a warm bath.
I struggle to breathe beneath the surface of my insecurities as the Barbie incarnation to my left offers the platitudes of an awesome weekend to her confidantes.
Harassed by the face of that acne ridden girl in the bathroom who ceaselessly stares back at me, my uncertainty grows.
Dripping bubbling spreading. I feverishly contain the pool under a guise of ‘awesome.’
Flash a smile.
As my teacher moves to the front of the room I dry my hands of the cool, damp remnants of my digression. And she reads,
“Take a moment to think about how blessed you are”
I’ll say it again.
“Take a moment
to think about how
blessed you are.”
Like a sharp punch to the stomach each word struck me,
Obliterating the pool of torment in which I once lay.
Burning through the air, the words rebounded off of the walls, gaining strength as they painted the room in a bizarre pallet of yellow and red
How blessed you are
How blessed I am.
Nothing was different, nothing the same.
As they danced around me the words cracked the shell in which I comfortably resided
Corroding the foundation of my former, self-pitying perspective
until finally it burst
With all the grace of an anvil through the careful artistry of a stained glass window.
And as I sat, bombarded by the beauty of my new lens,
I again began to radiate my private notions uncontrollably.
I breathed today. Deep long hits of clean air, I inhaled like an addict.
Greeted by the promise of a new day, I rose.
Unaffected by a conflict on my doorstep, my hands skated swiftly over scrambled eggs and orange juice.
The vitality of both of my legs chauffeured me to my bus stop where I waited beneath the soothing hand of a tall tree, elegantly adorned with the beginnings of spring.
The smell of gasoline embraced me as the breaks stuttered to a halt.
A boy passed baring a bashful grin,
A perfectly aligned, alabaster peace offering, overpowered by my own self doubt.
The images scampered around me, filling the room once more.
How blind am I to miss the luxury in each day?
Why do I choose to surrender to the war zone in my head,
falling silent beneath the weight of a negative outlook,
instead of falling to my knees and thanking God for the ability to speak freely?
I see now.
Each day holds a beauty unbeknownst to those who walk along the river of life with their heads down.
Each day you feel. Each day you grow. Each day you are blessed.
Everything is awesome.