obituary

Here's the closest attempt of understanding her soul, the only thing she never fully offered the world.

carly:
An independent type, conformed by a world who loved cat videos more than news headlines. She was average--height, weight, and cartwheel performance. A girl with too many thoughts in her head and a mouth too big to make sense of it all. She lived through emotions. Her head was indecisive, but her heart as firm as a butt transplant.

Her room wasn't filled with trophies or hobbies, and she never cared too much for extracurriculars. She wasn't a math person, an outdoors person, or a book person, but simply just a person, a label that no one ever defined--or really understood. In a solar system module, she was the styrofoam sun, shining as much light as she could on everything that made the worlds go round. 

What she did know for sure was standing in front of her at 6'2". He attempted to understand her long metaphorical rants and why her right armpit sweats more than her left. An attempt applauded by all by-standers, even herself. Of course, she gave him most of her soul...everything except the parts she didn't understand herself. 


To the girl who gave the world to her people, and to her people who gave the moon to her. 

xx