Nicole Johnson

Some days I wake up and ponder the meaning of life.

I often sit and contemplate events of the past and ask myself “what if…”
What if I had tried harder, would we have survived?
What if I had known sooner, could I have stopped the spiral and forgiven the betrayal sooner?

I sit and think so heavily about how my life could have been.

I could have been wearing the dress of my dreams, linked to a different family.

The lies could have surfaced then and muddled our perfected image of the white picket fence.

That all seems long gone now, but fresh enough to inhale the sent of fresh spackle-filled dents.

I often wonder the meaning of my ancestors.

White, black, native american brothers and sisters.

We all approach in different colors but our blood runs thicker than water.
Arms stretched high with smiles a mile wide.

I’ve come to realize that nothing would have changed.

The outcome would have been the same.

You weren’t meant for me, nor I  you.