10 Aug 2020
"I think you're chill". You threw these words so casually, BUT, I rolled my eyes (internally). "F**k! Now Smile" I smug and raise a single brow, Bro, cause I'm cool and I've heard it before. Now there is pressure, an expectation, for me to not say words that bother, cause chill people don't confront, they let it slide, "it kills the vibe yo". Now it's normalised, to accept below-par standards, and lousy compliments like "You're cute yo" (Excuse me, Sir, Imma fully grown woman) & overlook facts like you'll forget my birthday, but I'm the one whose gotta grow up, yo. Now it's okay, to waste away all our Sundays to sleep, laze, & Netflix when really, we could've been living our best lives exploring each star in this damn universe, or learn to cartwheel in the park or plan the next big money heist. Now I can't confide, I can't ramble, can't share the multiple iterations I planned of me to become a better person; you're only willing to accept the final version and judge away all other 'unchill' explorations. Now I gotta hold myself back, at all the places where I feel like writing a poem, on how it makes me so warm, fuzzy and invincible when I'm with you, or when I feel like, clicking a picture of your oh-so-adorable face and look at it when I'm feeling blue, or when I feel like impulse-buying tickets to place on the map, where you are, cause I'm missing you. And reduce it to scratching away that long para and replace it with some vague emoji and a 'Lol" cause " we're only keeping it cas, yo". Cause telling you anything gives you a goddamn panic attack. "I hate it here, the precedent of the things to come, the heartache I gotta swallow. It's making me twitch, grumble and visibly uncomfortable. Deja Vu, I know I've been there before, and therefore, I'm sorry for the buzzkill, but, I really gotta go".
To reply you need to sign in.