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When the World Falls Apart
The world is falling apart at the seams, and I am very comfortable.
The world is falling apart but I can turn it off if I want to, I can blow it out like a candle and not like a rocket that cracks and engulfs itself in flames. My blood carries no memory. I can choose to turn away if I’m sad, and my sadness becomes a seed unplanted, only fit to be chewed on and spit out and crushed under a passerby’s feet.
Action scares me. It means taking a stand, it means risking being wrong, it means risking the disapproval of other people and thereby breaking the measuring stick I use to evaluate myself. Do I have my own approval?
The works is falling apart at the seams, but not for me. I can always say I’m uneducated about the subject and then forget to educate myself, and I’ll tell myself I’ll be braver the next time the world falls apart.
Maybe the next time, it’ll be my world.
© katiewrites
The world is falling apart but I can turn it off if I want to, I can blow it out like a candle and not like a rocket that cracks and engulfs itself in flames. My blood carries no memory. I can choose to turn away if I’m sad, and my sadness becomes a seed unplanted, only fit to be chewed on and spit out and crushed under a passerby’s feet.
Action scares me. It means taking a stand, it means risking being wrong, it means risking the disapproval of other people and thereby breaking the measuring stick I use to evaluate myself. Do I have my own approval?
The works is falling apart at the seams, but not for me. I can always say I’m uneducated about the subject and then forget to educate myself, and I’ll tell myself I’ll be braver the next time the world falls apart.
Maybe the next time, it’ll be my world.
© katiewrites
