Circles

From the beginning we were taught that all things end, That what begun will soon stop beginning and Bittersweet endings were as inevitable as Slow starts and shitty days. Along the way they told us good things never last, Yet things will look up soon That what came up, must come down And we must swim against the current That was sure to come. And we were suppose to make sense of the tidal waves Our lives rode on while Keeping our heads above the water, our feet grounded to the sea floor. And somehow, still manage to let our wings flap. I don’t think we start living at any given reason Or die when our hearts stop beating. I think we grow and wither with seasons. From when we first stumble upon damp grounds and pick rosebuds While shoving them in our mouths in fistfuls because as children, We think colors and textures must taste how they look. And I swear, sometimes they do. But then we realize rosebuds turn into flowers And we grow rooted to a familiar ground That warms up like pavement on summer nights And we have children and jobs And most of the time we appreciate “doing” more than “being” Because like summer, we forget we ever sprouted or that eventually we’ll fall, Because all that matters, is that, we “are”. Then slowly our colors start turning and leaves start falling In forms of wisdom from our tired heads And resting on benches feeling a familiar breeze across our face, Reminds us: we too must end someday. My best friend has made it a point to send me a pinwheel Every time I get my heart broken. I like to pretend that she does this not because she knows how excited I get To send it whirling with my breath and eating all the candy in the rod at once But because she’s reminding me that just like The paper curls make a full rotation faster than the application of a single puff of air, Broken hearts pass before we become aware That we’re rising for the occasion of another. Time unfortunately works slower than my breath. But there’s a reason why clock hands tick in circular way And why I’ve received pinwheels more times than I’ve ever been in love. But I’ve learned that ticking clock hands heal all wounds If you carry the tools to fix them within you. If instead of filling up gaps with pretty words people will say You fill them with cement of your own praise. Baby, let your heart weigh. Let it anchor you down When rough winds throw heartbreak at you Or life questions your value And sends you spinning into the same circle of “I don’t deserve this, but I think I asked for this” Because He will never understand you If YOU don’t define you And SHE will never value you, If YOU don’t set a price. Because if our lives are like circles, Then why is it we’re still living like there's pieces of us missing. Life won’t stop ticking it’s hands away And love doesn’t know any corners. And shitty days JUST HAPPEN. But so does happiness. And seasons, they'll come and go, Waiting for you to end, Just so they can begin again.