Wrapped in a bow,
neat and tidy.
With a cherry on top even,
and I wonder why
I hate these phrases,
why humans
don’t realize
that bows are meant
for tying
and keeping
and binding.
We think pretty packages
in straight little rows
will make things
feel right
and normal.
But we’re wrong.

I want to start
a revolution,
make things
messy and cluttered,
the way life is,
the way it’s meant to be.

I love how bows
can turn plain
into perfect,
and that’s what
we claim to want,
but what I want
is dirty
and complicated
and unkempt.

I want late night fights
and long morning talks.
I want the pain
to make the love burn deeper.
I don’t want
tidy or neat
because we were never
what perfect
is supposed to look like.
We were
and rush
and blood
and dirt.
We weren’t
shiny paper
and curling string.

We were more
we were real.




2 thoughts on “Revolution

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