Just Remember That Even Sidewalks Have Cracks

To my friend, Morgan

Your ears never heard anything good to warm your insides.
They have been burned by the whispers of toxic words
that seeped their way into the creases of your brain,
branding themselves to the walls.
You have secrets that are slowly rotting between skin and bone,
that haunt you at night, screaming into your face.
All you've ever wanted was to be someone else,
to be favored by the kings and queens of high school.
And you've been pushed so close to the edge
that falling off seems easier than trying to stay balanced.

But you've held on for so long
that vines have grown around your legs
and flowers has sprouted out from the sides of your shoes.
Giving up isn't an option anymore.

In a year, this life will end and doors will close.
These royalties will crumble to dust, leaving nothing behind
but souls that wander the earth, looking for a purpose.
You will leave behind old rusted playgrounds
with grass growing through the sidewalks
and the thoughts tainted with suicide
to finish writing your ever growing story.
You will rise above all the s**t you were forced into,
flying high above everyone who wrote weak on your skin.

And I hope to God that this is just a lesson, a reminder, proof
that the ones who've suffered through life
are the ones who find the pot at the end of the rainbow.