I remember the laughter we shared as children. But we're now connected by the tears that flow from our eyes, and the blood that flows from our wounds from the people we were taught to love.
"people make mistakes" our heroes say. "We have to forgive the ones they make." But no one tells us how hard it is when they are made by the people who tell us which steps to take.
My heart falls apart for the little princesses who reigned with me over the backyard which was home to that old cherry tree. They've forgotten what it's like to have hope bigger than the wounds they wear on their skin, or the ones they carry in their minds.
And I crumble at the thought of the brave knights who protected us no matter what. whether it be from those evil imaginary villains, or the temper of the men and women inside the dining room every Christmas.
they're questioning their strength because they couldn't keep us safe from the violence we've faced.
Our lives are far from perfect.
It's wild at best.
But though we've lost our minds,
let's promise to never lose sight of our hearts.