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Hues of the Healing

I live in a pool of nostalgia. Oblivion. The vhs tapes displaying the softness of lifes little things. Like a baby’s first steps or, your grandparents slow dancing in the kitchen. The cliches of experiencing a love that allows you to run through a sunflower field. I dream of a world where it’s okay to be gentle. We pick flowers to enjoy their beauty while they live their last seconds in our hands. A world where brown skin girls have a happily ever after, by the end of their day everyday. Where meeting at the park to play, and be kids after a long morning of being approachable for people who don’t know us. Finding the love of your life in a video shop or your favorite bookstore. Exchanging ideas of bliss with the passion in your actions versus the empty promises of your words. Dreaming of people, places, and things that exist before or after the current minute we stand in. Chasing a fantasy world as if we fell into a rabbit hole. Landing on our heads in a timeline that timeless. Our 3rd world problems disappear, seeming to be a figment of our imaginations, only existing on TV. I live in a pool of nostalgia where peace isn’t a privilege but a priority. Not needing to suffer at the expense of another, in order to find your happiness.


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