Let Kindness Blossom 

Written by: Kinley Hartman 

 
 
We grew up holding on to hope, clinging to the truth-- 
To a rope that unraveled with every movement. 
We were helpless-- 
hovering from a thread-- 
learning to believe that we couldn’t 
 
Worth buried within mud, 
Concealed by wasted memories  
Our hearts had become familiar with the cracks, but all that could be seen was nothing. 
Darkness-- 
Shadows replaced the glimmer of kindness. 
 
We broke. 
I sat in silence; 
The Pain wanted to be heard 
It screamed. 
It suffocated my words, stole my voice. 
 
The stars in our eyes 
found more of a purpose 
in the tears on our face. 
Hidden. Scared. Unaware.  
these were feelings we were taught to bare. 
 
Like a summer air that was never really there,  
Falling endlessly into a numbness 
of understanding, if everyone said it- 
How could it not be true? 
How could I deserve to live among the breath of others? 
 
The teachers, The doctors, The tests asked 
Do you feel safe? 
but safe was not a word in our vocabulary. 
We had been raised with the shadows of caves-- all spelling 
 “Loser”, “weak”, “dumb”, 
 
“Incapable” of what’s possible 
Instead of seeing sunny days, 
horizons fade 
and we remembered the funny names 
But our smiles never lifted.  
Even if everything told us otherwise, 
we were gifted.  
Our views had been shifted. 
In a different world, there were 
no bruises to hide, lies to tell, walls that fell-- Hearts would be held. 
 
but nothing is perfect. 
We are trapped behind doors of hate.  
frightened to feel even more  
Ashamed- of who we are 
of how we managed to get so far away from the shore 
 
Waves overwhelmed our souls 
tossed and turned- we were told to notice the folds, 
the curves, 
the flaws- 
We could never show this. 
 
Born pure and innocent,  
The idea of acceptance, friendship, kindness 
Has been forgotten. 
The scale has begun to tip. 
The problem is not power- 
 
It’s the image of a child who feels 
He must cower 
Lost in a corner of his mistakes 
Of what makes him- 
Someones everything. 
 
 
 
It’s the memory of your sister’s heart 
Shattered. 
the pieces too small, 
too tattered- 
fighting to carry the weight of judgement, 
 
Pinning her to the “imperfections” 
you believed were beautiful. 
Now that stories are told 
hate unfolds- but we are stronger 
we can make change last longer 
 
Bullying won’t be a problem. 
simply let kindness blossom.