Tough Cookie

Here’s to the black canvas; my friend of the ups and downs

I might’ve tried fooling myself thinking that I was a tough cookie; that I had my life all figured out, that I was sailing steady and reality seems to try to break me but I became harder than rocks; I no longer shed a tear, only the sky does over me – and the cold morning dew doesn’t bother me, nor the nonexistent sun nor the nonexistent shade

I am bare in the world of lies, where everyone puts a facade and I put a transparent one over me to let everyone read my heartbeats, to let everyone touch my breathing lungs

I am naked in the fogs of winter, in the cold where everyone hides, I am wearing nothing but myself, a freezing set of teeth, a stiff set of skins, and fixed wide eyes looking at the mess of my mind reflected in my transparency

A block of ice strutting its way over the puddles in its own self-destruction, sane and insanely, thinking life is only today as tomorrow is uncertain and yesterday is forgotten, but the future seems too bright to be true or maybe not quite; but I might’ve tried fooling myself thinking that I was a tough cookie

Writing on a black canvas as black as everything else and as white as nothing else; because this life is a gray ground but it’s hard to believe it is and it’s hard believing that it is

Because if darkness kills you and brightness blinds you then the gray confuses you, and if that’s not already what everyone feels, I don’t know what else I’m trying to tell myself than to accept having this gray inside of me where sometimes the shade turns a little darker or sometimes also turns a little brighter

But everyone is somewhere in the spectrum of light – and for me I’m in a constant search of a good base and I thought shutting myself off is an answer; because it’s safe here inside my cocoon, because I have believed it to be true for as long as I can remember living

Because I’m mad, because I’m angry, because I’m furious about the wrong things done to me from those who are or were close to me, from all the blues that I’ve been feeling

But being red takes so much energy and I have embarrassed myself for having red inside of me, for basically surviving cruelty, for standing up for myself that I decided to dim the red and avoid the blues

And I might’ve tried fooling myself thinking that I was a tough cookie, and a tough cookie isn’t supposed to feel and a tough cookie isn’t supposed to cry – a tough cookie is supposed to be tough, to act like nothing is wrong, to strut in life like everything’s fine, to have no emotions and stay still, to basically play dead inside, to eventually get it internalized

Well, I might’ve tried fooling myself for the sake of becoming a tough cookie that’s afraid of getting soggy for crying at the cost of blending in with the facades of best liars

Lying to myself for being a human, for having emotions – it’s nonsense, you, wannabe-tough-cookie