When you’re supposed to care, you do.
Like a rhythm drumming in your veins,
you know it, blood.
You always do.
A mural of your insides in party streamers
and love in the glitter glue
oozing from the corners of googly eyes
fawning glances from all around the parade.
It’s for you.
The happiness of expression
like a mark on your skin,
it’s where you hold your heart.
They threw you a parade
but you’re still working.
Still making flower crowns for any mare to wear.
Only worrying about the inevitable,
when magic disrupts the crowds.
But it’ll just as quickly melt away
like the candy floss you wrap your villains in,
there’s only one way for them to join the party
the next time and the time after.
There is no love without mistakes.
There is no other formula
for fun fun fun.
Gael Granados is a rising senior at DePaul University, studying secondary education with a math focus. He has previously had work published in After Hours’ 50th issue. He likes writing, if not obvious, and sitting in the sun.