By Fiameta Ande

 

Discouraged.

Between the light that beams through the tiny cracks of our built up wall

& it’s unreachable height mounded by the mistakes of others,

Or were they our own?

 

We will pretend we cannot fly.

We will pretend we are blind.

 

Pretending is all we know.

After all, whom could we ever expose our true selves too?

There is no mirror on this earth to show us who we are

Only a reflection of who we wish to be

Tainted by the loss of hope that one day the image will no longer be seen through glass

But in the eyes of our own.

A true self exposed

Staring back at us with the validation of a smile…

… and crooked teeth

 

We will pretend we cannot fly.

We will pretend we are blind.

 

Our knowledge has served us wrong.

Just as our vision could not help us see through the mirror's deception,

The wings of others were weakened by our weight;

Our hearts too heavy to hold

To carry over the unreachable height.

Dropped.

Time and time again...

No need for the grandfather bell at the top of the hour.

Rely on the abandon cry to remind you it’s midnight,

and we have gone another day stuck on this side of the wall.

 

We will pretend we cannot fly.

We will pretend we are blind.

 

Wings of others have failed us. What if there is no Savior?

Does the weight of our hearts act as anchors to our ways?

Our own heart would never betray us.

That is of course, only if denial hasn’t been thriving there

As the source to reach the rest of our bodies.

 

My only true fear with my time here is that I cannot fly on my own.

And if I am not able-bodied

May I be blind to the light that shows me the view of the other side of our wall.

 

Only until we lighten our hearts,

 

We will pretend we cannot fly.

We will pretend we are blind.

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Fiameta Ande is a Sophomore majoring in Psychology, from Cedar Rapids, IA.