Life

Life is full of hard choices.
What do you do?
Do you strive and struggle for a standard of perfection that you can never hope to attain?
Or do you just give up?
Not all the time, but in those few, rare moments when your blood boils up inside you, and you can hardly stand it, and you want to scream and fight off the inevitable.
Do you suffer in silence, and let your wounds bleed and bleed until the vessels around your eyes burst from all the tears?
The little red patches left behind don’t go away so easily.
How do you decide what’s important? What’s worth fighting for, and what to let go?
Even though it’s the little things you have to cling to. Or at least it seems that way.
Because when you add up all the little things, it makes up a whole person, a life, a soul.
And all of a sudden, you have the choice to make.
And you lie, not a whole lie, but you hide the little pieces that make it truth.
She did the same thing this morning, and I scoffed at her.
Now I’m no better than her. Is any one of us above the other?
Then why do I hate her so?
She’s taken everything away from me. Can’t I keep this one little thing to myself?
This one little thing, that makes up such a small piece of me?
Is the choice to lie a piece of me too?
I’ve seen the most truly humble people lash out in a fleeting moment of pride, and even the most arrogant swine bow down in a single instance of humility.
And people thought that that was who they were.
Why are we judged by such small pieces of our lives? After all, don’t all the little pieces make up the real picture?
Here I am, babbling.
Just a bunch of silly little pieces
From the heart of a girl
Who cries when no one’s looking.
Maybe there’s a bigger picture,
A collage made from many broken pieces
That tells the story of a girl
Who wipes away the tears each morning
And tries to put the pieces back together.