In The Real World

I was not taught the “golden rule” as a child

To treat others how I would want to be treated.

The idea of this rule never crossed the lips of my parents

As the lessons they shared with me always included four words.

In the real world.

Nobody is kind without reason

Because my family taught me that people only ever

Compliment or offer to help me for the sole reason of

Them wanting something from me.

When I talked about being an astronaut or veterinarian

I was reminded failures are not worth the money.

In the real world

People work jobs they don’t love so they can put food on their tables

And cash in their pockets.

I was a quiet child who occupied shadows and corners

Frightened by people who I was convinced would steal my joy.

As if happiness were like the paper clips in my pockets

I hid it.

When it came to my laughter and smiles I was stingy

Terrified I would run out if I displayed my joy to the world too often.

In the real world

People die young and old, quietly in their sleep and in awful ways.

I was reminded regularly to be prepared for things to end

Because nothing lasts forever,

People I know die.

As a child I liked to collect paper clips

And sharpies

I loved paper and every kind of pen I could get my hands on.

My reasoning for filling shoe boxes of pens and paper and paper clips

Was because nobody wanted to hear my about my thoughts

My thoughts and ideas were worth nothing.

I wrote them on papers and paperclipped them together,

jealous how my words had eachother for company.

In the real world

Happiness is not a guarantee.

Parents encourage children to jump and dance

To imagine themselves as athletes or rock stars

Doctors and veterinarians and astronauts and super heros and ballerinas

Every night before bed they tell their children follow your dreams.

I’ve always had a habit of staying up as late in the night as I could

Until my eyes closed without my permission.

With no mention of dreams because nightmares drowned out my hope of flying.

I counted stars and sang to the moon

Named the street lights and waved to coyotes

While I sat by my window each night imagining a different life.

Though it was no use because I was always reminded

I needed to live In the real world.

I never understood the golden rule,

Because it was never put into play by the people around me.

They lied and manipulated me, promising me nothing for everything of mine they stole.

Though while I grew taller over the years

My skin gaining new layers by the week

And my understanding of the truth nobody is kind without reason.

I began to love destroying the truth that had contaminated the blood in my veins.

I was kind to people I did not know for a reason I did not understand.

I smiled, maybe hoping I would run out one day.

In the real world

I didn't want to be the child my parents raised.

I wanted to waste my joy on people

So that maybe one day they would find that I was worth kindness.