Ricochet

When I remember sitting in my best friends backyard, pretending we were brave sorceresses and carving words onto wood, it's easy to ignore the fact that not many people want to please me.
Few who smile do so because I am near and few who talk do so in the hope I will lend an ear.
I have learned to live with being honest with everyone,
and with tucking a stray hair back as the wind whips it loose.
I don't imagine myself imagining you watching me, anymore, really.
Because we're all just trying to get by here, right?
Every soul has a song, and even if spirits aren't real I have evidence of the music they reflect.
I'm going to tell you something true.
It's not fucking worth it to look over your shoulder, because you're only delaying the force that is going to overtake you sooner or later when your legs gets tired and your breath falls short of where your mind wants to take you.
And frankly, you just look like a fucking idiot.
Let it go and shout in front of people and kick a dandelion, for heaven's sake!
I like who I am, so don't say my name and cover your face and glance around you... haven't you ever stopped to wonder what it would be like to be who and how you wanted?
People can tell.
I can tell.
I can't make someone fall in love with me, and the most satisfying part of that is how they manage it anyway.