Young Writers Society

i honestly dont know what this is. i wasnt trying to make it into anything like a poem or anything

Its days like this that make me feel excited. And the nights are cool and breezy and you know that you’re going to be alright. And you can finally feel again. And there’s no pressure to do anything. And life’s carefree. And I love you. And you love me.

And I don’t give a shit. And you don’t have to either. And we’re happy. Just wandering around and looking at the trees. Cars pass and so do little kids on bikes. And it feels real. This is real. You’re real. And you can finally see that. And I don’t have to cry anymore. Because everything isn’t alright. But it will be. Maybe not in the next few days, but you’ll get over it. I promise. And if things don’t get better, then you can think of me as a liar. And you can yell at me all you want. And I’ll stand there and take it. Because I have no right to tell you that everything’s going to be alright. It’s never going to be the same. At least, not if you still care. Things will get better and your heart will heal when you’re hopeless and time moves on and then you wake up one day, and it doesn’t hurt so much. Time may not heal all wounds, but it sure as hell eases the pain.