I am once again yearning.
For long brown hair to brush gently against my chest.
For long days with the lights off.
For soft, tall beds.
For crying babies, and long-lasting loves.
For heart-shaped sunglasses, and long drives on a bumpy highway.
For a juicer that takes an unnecessarily long time to figure out.
I'm yearning for all the long walkways that look haunted, yet fun to cross. I'm yearning for puddles to jump in.
I'm yearning for the cuffs of my blue jeans to get wet.
I'm yearning for all of the small love. For any small thing that makes me happy. Any small taste this inner child wanted to try without soaking the shade of guilt on her tongue.
I like to think life is just a dance in fluorescent lighting. Shitty motels
and being morbid. Giggling girls-being sappy. Not giving a single damn about anything that doesn't make them happy.
Boastful boys shaving and touching their smooth faces-like babies discovering their legs for the first time.
The distant sound of oceans crashing into rocks. Sirens turning into background ambience again, and not a thing that causes me panic attacks.
I am never again yearning to be happy, I'm simply doing it. I'm making shit happen because I can. I'm putting in the effort. Because I want it.
Because I've yearned for so much shit for so long.
I've carried a sword with me everywhere I've been defending my every action. Defending all of the happiness that should've been mine to begin
with.
I've carried this burden for so many years and I think I'm ready to put it down now. I want my wavy hair to live in the wind. I want my dad to give up, my brother to give in. I want my mother to cry it all out. I want a cat that willfully lives out all its nine lives. And I want someone who will fill
my soul with her hazel-brown eyes.
Once again,
I'm yearning for a life that makes me happy.
And once again, I'm settling on more complex things.