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.