Living.

 

Is is breathing?

Is it moving?

Is it being able 

To walk

To talk

To speak

 

Is living getting up everyday?

 

Living isn’t simple.

Just because

you walk

you talk

you speak

 

That doesn’t mean you’re living.

That just means you’re surviving.

 

Living is much different.

 

Living is feeling alive.

 

Feeling happy.

When you get home from school

You throw your backpack into the bin

The backpack with the handle thats ripping

Because you put it into your lacrosse locker

One too many times

 

And you walk by the mail slot

And see a large white and blue envelope

Laying in the middle of the floor

And one rip of the seal

And you reveal the big, “Congratulations”

The “You’ve been accepted” congratulations

 

And you don’t know whether

To smile

To scream

To laugh

Or to cry

 

When you’re in Rome

The real Rome

With the cobblestone streets

And the Coliseum, the ancient ruins

And the July sun is beating on your shoulders

In a pink floral dress, swaying in the breeze

And as you’re walking around

Suddenly the sun turns to clouds

And the breeze turns into rain

 

The middle of the happiest day of your life

The skies open up to hell

Pouring down rain kinda hell

But you don’t cry

 

You walk out into that storm

And you ruin your white lace shoes

Jumping into the biggest puddle

And dance in the rain

Like your life is a movie

 

Anyone who tells you

They need some material thing

To live

To be live

To survive

 

They’re just wrong.

 

No material object in this world

Do you need to live

 

Not food, not water

Not some book

Not some special anything.

 

You make your life worth living.

You cause yourself to survive.

 

Friends.

Family.

Late night phone calls.

Memories.

Long days in the kitchen.

Warm nights on the couch.

 

That’s what I need to live.

Just life.