Sometimes I wonder, I wonder how fish talk.
I know it sounds silly but I feel like a fish. Everyone goes down stream with the flow, while I am fighting the current to go up stream. Fish let the bubbles escape their mouths but, does it make a sound? They let go of those tiny pockets of air and they explode. The words erupt with meaning. Is anyone out there to hear? To listen? To really listen? And people say “If you can’t see anything great about yourself, get a better mirror, stare a little longer…” But, I say it doesn’t hurt when the names get shouted at me. They were wrong. When a person is put down enough you begin to believe it.
    A tear rolls down, tracing the scars of the past. His heart beats to the drum of life. A silent cry for help lingers with him, he wants to give up yet, he can’t. Tomorrow is a new day, maybe - just maybe it will be better than today. He prays to a god he doesn't believe in. He is a stick of TNT lit from both ends. He’s on the edge. But don’t stop. Keep going. Maybe you didn’t belong to a group or a clique. Maybe you are you, your own self. Are you a fish fighting the tough waters?
   This, this is my bubble.