Dusty Shelf

We are disconnected
Suffocated by the feelings 
Of social anxiety
And being friendless
Wanting nothing more 
Than to talk to 
That cute boy
Or that pretty girl.
We are unprotected
Walking home in
The cold and the dark
Seeming otherwise
As nothing but a mess
Hiding our hands in
Our sleeves Because
they're too shy
To be seen.

But just breathe.
 

We close our eyes
And hide far into our dreams
Wishing for nothing more
Than to be heard
Outside of our cries
And our screams.
Something as simple as 
A whisper in the wind
Or silent eyes
That tell a story in themselves
But how can we be noticed
When were placed up on shelves
Where dust falls over time
And then we are forgotten.
We let out a shout into the void
Only hoping someone will answer
And guide us in the direction of success
But to no avail.
Years go by and were still up on 
That dusty shelf
Sitting in silence as others pass by
With tears in their eyes
And laughter seeping through their smiles
And just for a little while
We accept what we think we deserve
So that shelf becomes home
And even though
There's no satisfying feeling
About this home
There's still no where else for us to go.
Eyes begin to widen with madness
And were lost and confused and filled with sadness.
The days grow longer
And the hours pass by
As we are stilling searching
For something to fill the hole inside our hearts
Wanting warmth and love
To overcome the feeling 
of our hollow bodies.
But Is there anybody who cares
Who listens
Who hurts in the same way we do
And the truth of it all is
That no matter who else out there
Feels the way we do
Feels like they're stuck on that same
Dusty shelf.
It's us who need to pick ourselves up
And face the infinite universe
To open closed doors 
And wipe our own tears
It's us who need to fill the empty
Spaces between our bones
And mend our aching hearts
It's us who need to fix what's been broken
And not take for granted the life we were given
Because life...
Is beautiful.
Every year the rain will fall
The snow will melt
The trees will shed their leaves
And the flowers will still bloom.
It is up to us to stop watching 
The days
The weeks
The months
And the years
Passing by before our very eyes
And do something with our lives.

Mama can't hold your hand when you're 18 and on your own
Paying bills
And piled high in debt.
Daddy can't save you from
That rapist
Or that murderer
Or that corrupted government man
Who promises to make our lives better.
It is up to us to drag ourselves out of bed each day 
To dress ourselves 
Make our own meals
And make sure we get to work on time.
And although that shelf brings comfort
It is lonely
And will always leave you wanting something more.
So get up
And dust yourself off
Because leaving the comfort of that
Dusty shelf you called home
Is more rewarding than any
Paycheck 
Or lover
Or starry memory filled night
Than wasting your life away
In depression. 

Your youth is your prime
And growing old is inevitable
So go on searching for a life
More desirable
One worth telling stories to your
Grandchildren when you're 82.
Tell them about that shelf 
That you wasted so much time on
And warn them 
That it'll never add up to anything
Because life's greatest mysteries
Are ones that are seen in the flesh
Even if they have to drag themselves to it
One inch at a time.
Tell them that they'll make it just fine
Out in the world
And tell them that if anyone dares
To put them up on that shelf
That they need to stand their ground
But to pause for a moment
And question that person
Or that demon
If they really belong on that shelf
Even if they're told that they do.
Tell them that they need to know
That no one belongs on that lonely shelf
Because there's no minority of
Blacks or Asians
Or gays or transgenders
Because we are all human.
Tell them that each and every one of us
Deserves a beautiful life
Away from that shelf
And that life
Is waiting.