From the beginning we were taught that all things end,
That what begun will soon stop beginning and
Bittersweet endings were as inevitable as
Slow starts and shitty days.

Along the way they told us good things never last,
Yet things will look up soon
That what came up, must come down
And we must swim against the current
That was sure to come.
And we were suppose to make sense of the tidal waves
Our lives rode on while
Keeping our heads above the water,
our feet grounded to the sea floor.
And somehow, still manage to let our wings flap.

I don’t think we start living at any given reason
Or die when our hearts stop beating.
I think we grow and wither with seasons.
From when we first stumble upon damp grounds
and pick rosebuds
While shoving them in our mouths
in fistfuls because as children,
We think colors and textures must taste how they look.
And I swear, sometimes they do.
But then we realize rosebuds turn into flowers
And we grow rooted to a familiar ground
That warms up like pavement on summer nights
And we have children and jobs
And most of the time we appreciate
“doing” more than “being”
Because like summer, we forget we ever sprouted or that eventually we’ll fall,
Because all that matters, is that, we “are”.
Then slowly our colors start turning
and leaves start falling
In forms of wisdom from our tired heads
And resting on benches feeling a familiar breeze across our face,
Reminds us: we too must end someday.

My best friend has made it a point to send me a pinwheel
Every time I get my heart broken.
I like to pretend that she does this not because she knows how excited I get
To send it whirling with my breath
and eating all the candy in the rod at once
But because she’s reminding me that just like
The paper curls make a full rotation
faster than the application of a single puff of air,
Broken hearts pass before we become aware
That we’re rising for the occasion of another.
Time unfortunately works slower than my breath.
But there’s a reason why clock hands tick in circular way
And why I’ve received pinwheels more times than I’ve ever been in love.

But I’ve learned that ticking clock hands heal all wounds
If you carry the tools to fix them within you.
If instead of filling up gaps with pretty words people will say
You fill them with cement of your own praise.
Baby, let your heart weigh.
Let it anchor you down
When rough winds throw heartbreak at you
Or life questions your value
And sends you spinning into the same circle of
“I don’t deserve this, but I think I asked for this”
Because He will never understand you
If YOU don’t define you
And SHE will never value you,
If YOU don’t set a price.

Because if our lives are like circles,
Then why is it we’re still living like
there's pieces of us missing.
Life won’t stop ticking it’s hands away
And love doesn’t know any corners.
And shitty days JUST HAPPEN.
But so does happiness.

And seasons, they'll come and go,
Waiting for you to end,
Just so they can begin again.