I walked into this life blind
I was given fresh lemons
I cut them
But I couldn’t find the sugar
Instead
The lemon juice slips down to open wounds
Kissing my flesh
Burning my skin
On instinct
I squeezed harder
The juice rushed now, the seeds planted in my skin colliding with that fresh shade of red
I dropped the lemons, look at what I did
My tears salty and my arms sour
They burn and itch
They pour their natural liquids
I looked down at the discarded lemons
To see that they grew a thick green skin
Uncut
Like nothing ever happened to them
My shaky cut arms reached towards them
Closer to inspection
They were limes
They seemed to taunt me
Reflecting
I couldn’t make lemonade from the start
Instead I was showed how to
Grab the rum off the too tall dresser
Of trauma
Add the limes of my life
Throw the drink back in one sip
And walk through the earth
As blindly as I was born
With cut wrists and shaking hands
With poor decisions and thinking that
Lemons were sweet
But I had to deal with what I was given
Make use of my limes
And forget about wishing how sweet
Lemonade would be
The post Life gave me lemons appeared first on Baltimore Beat.