So shrug it off. Drop the heavy from your shoulders light and smile. You fucking smile. You know it will change your whole day. Open your eyes. There is beauty everywhere. And isn’t it funny how simple minded thoughts like that may have good intentions, but listen… just listen. The beauty you see is yours, so look at it all day. I hope it makes you smile. I hope it fills you with magic and positivity and all the warm, fuzzy feelings you ever wanted. But don’t assume that everyone has the same view as you. They don’t. Trust me when I say they have their eyes wide open and they see a different picture. You probably haven’t seen those shades before through your own eyes, so I know it’s hard to understand. But try. Try harder to stop paying the stigma forward. It’s not funny. It’s not an eye roll moment for someone who just can’t stay away from the drama. When someone is in pain, when someone sees a different view than you, and you label it as negativity or drama, I get it… that’s taking the easy way out. You are copping out. You are scared. Fear does strange things to us sometimes. Closes our minds, turns our hearts cold. But there’s nothing more cold than sitting in the dark of yourself, when the room empties because your eyes.. they tell stories that hurt, so no one looks. It’s too familiar. No one wants to stroll down the memory lane of their own pain that somehow unfolded in your eyes. They look away. Make a left to the quickest route out because that seems right, but it’s just easy, and sometimes easy is the quickest way to jump ship. The beauty you see… it’s fucking ugly. No one wants to look long enough to understand how the picture you see isn’t the same as the one they look through… so they blind their eyes, board their heart shut dark, because what if some of your dark crosses into their light like a reminder they wanted to forget. Not everyone has to read your story, love. Only the brave ones. Brave enough to pierce every edge of that board, bust open the glass, blow over the smoke, dig up the mosaic to read each piece like a revelation of a reflection so loud, they taste it. The ones who get it from the long version that doesn’t need a short cut, a cheat sheet, a cliff notes edition of why your eyes tell stories that makes the dark hide itself. The ones who aren’t afraid to look at the parts you forgot to shine today, dulled over raw, scuffed up like reality heard the truth for the first time and didn’t turn away… those are your people. They’ve been cut by your sharp before, but still bend their knees to understand the break you start and end each day with. It’s not pretty, never a promise to be anything more than what it is and goddamnit… I will cut my knees open just to sift through the beauty in your breaking. I swear to god… I will climb inside every wound and bleed just to show you.. I see you and I understand so much, it hurts… but I stay. I always will. I will never be the one who looks away, no matter how dark it gets, I will stay for the light… and if it never comes, I will give you mine. I will never let you sit in your own empty room. Promise.