Often, not always.

Often, not always.

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The existence of one,
Often justifies another.

I sometimes face a writer’s block,
But it validates my existence as a writer.

An eighteen year old woman,
Carries sanitary napkins in transparent bags,
Because things are changing.
The twenty-four year old however,
Covers every inch of her thighs and cleavage,
Because things aren’t changing,
As fast as they should.

A boy aged fourteen is in the gym,
And every one is shocked and downhearted.
A seventeen year old boy has love handles,
He is fat-shamed.

You are facing a financial crisis,
Your money is now around your neck,
Instead of growing on a metaphorical tree,
But it validates your financial existence.

The existence of one,
Often, not always, justifies another.

A fifteen year old is cutting her wrists,
But not her veins,
So that she dies only a little.
Because this pain will help her forget,
A part of her life.
Bullshit.

A thirty year old is watching a television show,
And is late for work,
Because he doesn’t like his job,
And it isn’t working out anyway.
Bullshit.

I don’t tell her I love her,
She’ll see my chapped lips and hear my slurred speech,
Laugh like a devil disguised as an angel,
And say no.
She definitely won’t say yes, will she?
I am scared and so, reluctant.
Bullshit.

Often, not always.


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