Cracked Concrete Can Still Grow Weeds
written by: Kerri Caldwell
This is who we are now – we like bent and disturbed, ruined and misunderstood, the knowledge that no one can touch us sharpening our edges.
There’s a thrill where you find fear in the nights that turn over and bring a colorless dawn.
And you carelessly harbor this fear where we find life past a slow decline, who see beauty in rotting heartbeats and decaying flowers. It makes you uneasy, but that doesn’t make us insane.
Somehow we always manage to remember that only those with savage hearts will ever win the war. You’re well aware that we’re brave and reckless, the very ones the world depends on to do the impossible because we always do.
This is who we are now. Modern-day guardian angels, little gods unto ourselves, divine but never holy. Who are you?
Hypocritical in how you look at us like saints and treat us like we’re the last living sinners.
Deceiving with your soft smiles and wicked hearts, the subtle shift between hate and jealousy.
You were caught up in the fable, solid in your belief that you found some better place that turned out to be a dizzying madness of treating yourself wrong.
Nothing compares to ancient ignorance.
You guard your world with silence and resentment and regard us with conflict.
You consider us with dead eyes but depend on our resilience and eyes that see too far, terrified that we’ll leave you behind, knowing we are a dying source of vigilantes, a backwards balance of guiding the lost and broken, and keeping the soft ones intact.
Our minds are cluttered with impossibilities and our hearts turn them into possibilities.
This is who we are now. Bold, magnificent, unexplored, dangerous and unusual. Dancing with our demons and never accepting the things we don’t want.
We are serene chaos, controlled but never apologetic, and there’s no chance we can’t change.
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- Cracked Concrete Can Still Grow Weeds - November 26, 2019