How soft and brilliant the sun seems. Sweet cheddar cheese I hope To dip my apple slice of intellect in One day. So dip-
I don't wish to make the claim that My darkness jumps the highest. I want to say my darkness connects me In ways I never knew possible.
I don't wish to say my words always meet The golden standard set in time No I want to let my words tear Into the golden standard like A rare steak drowning in thick A1 sauce.
I don't want to be who everyone wishes me to be Because no matter how hard I try The outcomes will never add up.
I can see it now. It took a year to grow a backbone of My own opinions. Not theirs. It took a year to see my own reflection, Not what they said of me. It took three hundred and sixty five days Full of hours and seconds and so much more
To let myself grieve the loss Of a person I could no longer be. And I made it, Through all the pain I made it.
To my professor, the answer to the last question on your exam is none of the answers given. Here, let me explain.
The answer is that small step- The bijou match struck in the abyss. So little, and so seemingly ineffective. Justauselesssparkthatendsup -Starting a fire in the coldest hour -Striking a fuse at the sweetest flushed breath.
You say it's hope but I say It's just a match. One I am forever grateful I was gifted.
I will never forget those who's match burned bright with no fire or explosion to follow. With no one to realize in time, that support is more important than image. That connection is more important than any excuse you give, to not pick up the phone.
To my matchsticks, I love you. I miss you.
You are with me always. -Starr Kessinger