Sand

Why don't you take your differences and wrap them in sand? where no one, and I mean no one Can't say that you can or should Hold them close to you where the smallest pieces will suddenly fall closer to your floating feet, that feel miles from the rest of the shiners and dreamers that you don't feel you're apart of? That close enough but not far enough feeling of doubt and uncarefulness, and a little more than uncertainty, maybe even a little less passion than what it takes to make a diamond in the rough in today, Today, what is today? Besides a mass of floating insecurities that that uncarefulness will help to float the sand in your hand and your dreams to the dusty ground where everyone, and I mean everyone else's, have fallen, like erased chalky chalkboards that are just covered and covered again with what you're supposed to know, not what you want to know, what you feel you need to know? Take your fizzing out, not-as-bright dreams and faces, and never come back to this fallen place, the fallen place of the stars, the black pit that most call Normality, Take them and run, take them and run because not a one, not a one of you can afford to lose what can't be taken from you what I already lost, what I have only begun to retake, like something I failed but something bigger than what we always fail, something bigger than dirt-wrapped dreams and fallen stars, on this board of life that is no longer a game. Take your unique, special, shining talents, and wrap them away, where only a piece at a time can fall to the pit of the earth, the core of us, the pushed facts and faces that only one or two hold onto, and plant them like a seed, never seen until they blossom, never shining, never growing out of the enclosed protected space that you can call your own. Because your differences, are the only, and I mean the only, things that will grow anymore.