everyone remembers a time when there was more hand holding more slow dancing more love more and less violence. I find myself pointing outwards to show who broke the world who shattered the dreams who is killing young girl self esteem who is making young boys so insecure that they go crazy or regress into a greater capacity to hurt and today I think maybe I should be standing across from a reflective surface. maybe I broke the world broke the world broke the world with my sarcasm using words to bite when I feel nibbled at or the first time I picked the asshole over the nice guy to love or whenever I believed myself fat before I actually was or because I never picked myself up from my last heartbreak maybe my perception is skewed or maybe my inches we’re all being abusive poking a little fun we say is okay never thinking what if it was us one day growing up with a more contaminated pool of politeness taking us further from actual kindess not the only wisdom ms. morrison gave me. so why can’t I walk in her steps follow my future to my preferred destiny… maybe that’s what has broken the world preoccupation with other people’s lives things choices wanting control. maybe it’s something I’ll never figure out. for now I’ll just remind myself that some things broken can be repaired and hope that the world is not like my heart.