Graffiti Princess
Contemplations on growing up; to run or not to run
I sat on the cliffside, wind rolling through my hair, looking out over the skatepark in downtown of my city
While trying to stifle the ache in my upper-belly, telling me to run, and the kids going back and forth were making me dizzy
I think I looked humorously princess, perched above everybody, cardigan blowing behind me like a draped cape
Though my holed converse and chipped nail polish give me away— I had to choose between rent and eggs this month and the rent won by a small margin
Except I like them that way; the converse. Because when I look at them it’s a reminder that they have been worn - and that’s what gives them character
How like me to look too deeply at something as trivial as Chuck Taylor and yet, I know I’m right. About this at least
So with my head resting against my knee, I rest atop my cliff, and my eyes rest upon my city. The sun is setting and the sky is a shining purple
I don’t even like eggs that much.
I’m not getting out of this unscathed.
Maybe the bravest thing I will ever do is allow myself to be loved in all of my humanness; and to love another in all of theirs.
Then maybe we’ll go out scathed, but we’ll go out scathed together.
I want to be someone’s, like my city is mine
I would be their shining purple.
In the way I know that my sun will set
I would be there, shining purple.
