mdawg
I painted my heart red today. As long as I live, it will be that way. I had to find some way to mend it. This seemed the easiest. Like the soldiers in Alice in Wonderland, I have to paint it to keep myself happy. Like a smooth exterior, my interior is hidden from view. Rare will I open up and let others see the truth, but as I am bright on the outside, it covers the inside. The painted heart hides the pain from the past. It hides the troubles it feels. The paint seals the heart away.
I pick up my backpack and get ready to leave. In my backpack I keep all the necessities to make it through a day. Like pens and pencils to arm myself to fend off the enemies crowding on your desk, like paper to use as shields against other attacks or build fighter planes or messenger planes to fight offense with offense or send messages to be decoded by an ally, like a water bottle for hydration up to the last minute of the battle, like a pack of gum to use as sticky bombs to catapult at any given second. My instruments for battle. My instruments to survive my daily life. All of it is kept in my backpack, and all I need to do is reach my hand down and I can satisfy the hunger for the creativity I had when I was younger.
I pick up my backpack and get ready for school. In my backpack I keep lots of equipment. Like pens and pencils to arm myself to fend off the evil quizzes and test, like paper to shield myself and build fighter planes, and a waterbottle for hydration for up to the last minutes of class. There are many useful supplies to satisfy my hunger for the creativity of the younger.
I remember the time when the words came easily. I remember the time when I was young and carefree. I remember the time when things were simple. I remember the time when I had no stress. I remember the time when I was able to do what I want. I remember the time when I was free, yet tethered to reality.