"Earth Will Never Let Her Go"

Random write about a friend.

She has a smile, like a bright future, that will never be seen because of other peoples f**k-ups.
Y’all, she has a whole lot of “it was worth it” ‘s, and 7 too many mistakes.
Like atlas stumbling, the world is gonna fall no matter what.
So she’s at home, dressing her personality in black.
waiting for the social assassination for the person she is.
She is something beautiful,
And I hear that she has braile broken into her mouth by angels.
And if she’ll let you close enough to kiss her, you can read as she sings,
“We’ll be singing, when we’re winning, we’ll be singing...
I get knocked down, but I get up again!!!
You’re never gonna keep me down!!!
I get knocked down, but I get up again!!!
You’re never gonna keep me down!!!”
And it’s true, you can’t bring her down.
Her balance is perfect, from all the years of getting knocked back by the presence of purpose.
She breaks molds and flashes like broken street lights.
Like doves dancing on her back as if they were wings, like heart beats, like a whole nother f*****g generation who will never break out of the parallel lines of the life-line that is drawn into a broken picture frame.
Here baby girl, take a knife, re-carve the frame.
Make it beautiful, like your broken smile when you see an ex that you still want to be friends with, but we all know it still hurts a whole hell of a lot.
You know that pillow you cry into every night, i want you to twist it till dream catchers trickle out onto your bed.
Light ‘em on fire.
From now on you live life like ever ember that two steps from the charms.
I want to see them burning like passion in your eyes when you dance with us, so we know you ain’t no woman to be messed with.
Growl when you speak to us, because every once in a while the “king” of the jungle needs to s**t his pants.
And we know you have a heart full of gunpowder itching to explode, like the 4th of July that you lost your virginity on.
God knows the roman candles never shined so bright.
They shined like Hiroshima.
Like hydrogen bombs burning into your bones.
The marrow seemed to glow.
They said the the shadows on the wall behind you looked a lot like angels dancing.
Like blind kids doing magic tricks.
Like deaf music producers.
They said there was an imprint after the burns that said “Impossible my a*s.”
It’s been hurting, we know.
But everything that has ever been great has went through rough times.
And you’re no exception.
Smack destiny, till the sweat and blood leaves rawrshawk tests on the palms of your hands.
We will always try to guess your future by reading your palms, and we will never get it right.
Take all the names of the people who hold your wings down, and throw ‘em on the ground like the trash they are, so that the world starts pushing down.
Stay right where you are, eventually the world will be far below you, and you’ll be flying above it all.
Like the songs that carry you from day to day.
And we’ll watch as you fade into the distance, and burst into the stars that you were born to be.
A great man once said “Graveyards are just the earth’s way of not letting go.”
And when you decide to leave us, it’ll be holding on tighter than ever.