There’s A Statue Of You In The Gardens Of My Mind.

“A hero is a person or character who is admired for their courage, achievements, noble qualities, who looks fear in the eyes and doesn’t even blink.”

That is the quote I saw on the wall of my sixth grade students classroom today. I strongly disagree.

All humans have hesitated. It’s instinct. It’s vital. It’s as strong as your heart beating. It is the culmination of thousands of years of survival. Hesitation is a universal experience.

Therefore, a hero always “blinks.” That ‘blink’ is the moment that human beings realize what they are doing. That singular defining moment that changes the gravity of the situation. The exact second that the given circumstances could produce a hero if the right choices are made.

Humans program robots. Robots don’t blink. If a robot were to walk through a path of throwing knives without blinking, would it be a hero? No, of course not. But by the first definition, they technically would be. The reasoning as to why they aren’t? Because the robot faces no repercussions. The robot has no risk. The robot has no real understanding of the danger, nor have they been forced to confront the facts of what they are up against.

That's where we come to our hero blinking. In order to be a hero, you must blink. You must have a moment to see the horrors that all logic would tell to run. Because it’s in that blink that the hero confronts the danger they put themselves in, and pushes forth anyways. That is what makes a hero. To have that shackling sensation of hesitation, and where most others would turn back, they trailblaze on. They trailblaze on anyway.

So here I propose a new definition:

“A hero is a person or character who is admired for their courage, achievements, and noble qualities, who looks fear in the eyes, blinks, and despite facing the world’s darkness, chooses to continue being the world’s light.”

“…and it was that day I realized it was hopeless; for I was simply a mosaic of everyone I’d ever loved.”

“i dream for the day you give me your heart, because i will hold it closer than i hold my own.”

- abby

the collection

june

july

august

september

october

november

december

“i gave the clothes off my back, just for you to stab me.”

- abby

“I live for you more than I live for myself.”

…

twenty-sixth — I., II., III.

twenty-seventh — IV., V., VI.

twenty-eighth — VII.

twenty-ninth — VIII.

LOVE, DEAR ABBY

…

twelfth

fourteenth ❄️

eighteenth

LOVE, DEAR ABBY

“You contradict your claim to have forgetten me when you go to such great lengths to avoid me.”

- abby

NOVOCAINE.

I know attention’s what she craves,

while you reminisce of now lost days.

Lying in the bed you made,

This cautionary tale of novocaine.

“Listed on my Wiki page,

There’s a list of whom I’d been betrayed,

Alongside accomplishments and accolades,

that you missed while you were away.

“That same list tells of who I’d claimed,

As lessons I’ll take to the grave,

Those lessons struck me, taught me, trained,

You made me “love” tasting blood and pain.

“We both knew you’d never change,

And thus so, you set the stage,

to view the downfall of your name.

A name I now push from my brain.

“I chewed and bit my lips by day,

To stop from talking, as to not say

How much I hate you, but I refrained,

Because my mother taught me ‘Grace’.

“But I grew tired of this relay.

Why should I be the one to maintain

This toxic joke you call a family?

I grew up, while you grew afraid.

“That’s what kept me alive and sane,

Yet what keeps you quiet and ashamed.

The fact that your love slowly drained,

And it’s all on you, your choice, your mistake.

“All your promises were fake,

Waited for that phone that never rang,

The gardens of my mind I raked,

My own sanctuary, I’d make.

“The anger and fury that burns away,

your scorching guilt will never fade.

And at night you’ll lie awake.

while your dreams die, your ‘heart’ slowly breaks.

“You search for forgiveness everyday,

Desperately reaching out in vain,

hoping to grasp a new blank slate,

but you and I know that’s insane.

“You look in the mirror but see my face,

It’s too late now, you can’t escape.

A hollow shell is what remains,

The colors gone, it’s all plain.

“Behind that ‘bride’ of yours who’s vain,

Who’s really more your ball and chain,

She only said yes to have a way,

To meet those bills she couldn’t pay.

“So let this be your take-away,

Two have always played this game.

You’ve learned victory you can’t claim,

And I now walk a different place,

“I see your life stuck on this page,

From which you can’t turn, it’s in flames.

It makes me relieved to finally say,

‘From you, I’m the one who got away’.”

LOVE, DEAR ABBY