The more I think about it, maybe the world is black & white.
People like to talk about ethical or moral grays. We romanticize the grays. It's in the theater. It's on Hulu. It's in advertising. It's carried in on radio waves. There's no escaping the idea that the purposefully vague person, the all too open mind, is the mind for which we strive.

It's my thought that all this focus on the subjective experience by the collective whole has desynchronized us from our base understanding of "right" and "wrong" as it applies to the entire human experience. Excuse me for saying so, but isn't the wanton use of subjective justice exactly how we've arrived at this point of contention? And it's no accident.

They, as in those in positions of ultimate power, who guard the same systems which govern our rules, guide our perception of reality, and drive our social development patterns, fight to maintain this status quo where we've forgotten the absolute in favor of an abstract, more easily marketable humanity. Marketable, hell, palatable is more like it. The fast and righteous adherence to the exponential goodness of humankind is a hard sell. And what is good? What is goodness? Goodliness?

It's nothing religious, but everything holy about our time on a blessed earth as creatures of no meager consciousness. It's the ability to understand and apply unwavering protection to the weak and destitute, and the wisdom to serve justice upon those who would create and maintain a kingdom of opulence in towers above their impoverished, above their uneducated, above their addicted, above their abused, above their loyal peasantry.

The more I think about it, the more I understand why objectivity has fallen out of fashion. Political parties and the grassroots movements that support their platforms are fighting and infighting within the confines of an obsolete construction. It's up to us. The youth. The movers and shakers.

Those of us who have the mobility, the determination, the means, and the conviction to make goodness work. Those of us able to stand up off the couch and volunteer in the community. The more I think about it, the more I'd rather play Overwatch.

At the young age of three
My brother said to me
"I wish I got hit by a car"
My thoughts wandered far

Why would a child?
Have thoughts so vile?
I didn't comprehend
That this wasn't the end.

At the age of 14
I typed on a screen
"I want to jump off and die,
I'm ready to meet my demise"

I understood the pain
My brother held in his brain
No wonder life felt drab
When I couldn't even feel sad.

And yesterday, at 11 years
My youngest brother told me crying tears
"I want to jump off something tall
I want to die, I feel so small"

I hugged him tight
Kissed his cheek
Told him life, does seem real bleak

But these thoughts,
I've had them too
And your brother
And grandmother
And my mother
It runs in our blood
To feel so alone
But together we're strong
So please don't go.

I was walking around Dylan's candy bar. I turned around suddenly and bumped into you. "I'm so sorry!" I said. You laughed and said "It's okay." I stared into your deep blue eyes. "Hi" you said, "Hello" I replied, "My name's Evan. I like your ring." I smiled, "Thank you. My name's Barker." "Are you new around here?" you asked while raising an eyebrow. "No actually, I was here 5 years ago." "Oh ****. Where are you from?" "Ottawa, Canada. You?" "Born and raised here in New York City. It's the only place I've ever known." You said with a smile. You shifted your weight. You seemed nervous. "I know we just met and this might sound crazy, but I was wondering if you would like to go out with me?" you said and I smiled and replied, "I would love to." We walked down and you showed me around New York City. We stopped at an arcade and we played a couple of games. We then continued roaming around. You brought me to a carnival just outside New Yor City. We went on the Ferris wheel and we held hands. We talked about our lives and things that were going on. When we reached the top you put your arm around me and when it was time for me to go you asked me for my number. I gave you my number and we started to text. When I went back home ou called me almost every night. One night we were talking you were walking on 3rd avenue. You made a joke and I was laughing. There was a sudden screech and a sound of a car hitting into something. I heard screams and shouting. People were yelling for someone to call 9-1-1. "Evan? Evan, what's happening?" I asked. You didn't respond. Someone picked up the phone and said "Hello? What is your relationship with this man?". A knot formed in my stomach.  "I'm his best friend." I replied, "Do you know what his name is? Where he lives? What his parents' number is?" I responded and told them your name, where you lived and your parents' number. "What happened?" I asked, "I'm sorry to say this, but your friend was struck by a car." My heart sunk. The person talked to me for a bit, trying his best to comfort me. The ambulance arrived first followed by the police. The person handed me over to the police. The police officer took the phone, "Hello, I heard that you were Evan's friend. I'm sorry to inform you, but he died." I was heartbroken. you were and still are my best friend and I miss you so much. I wish you were still here. I am staying strong. I hope heaven is treating you well. I love you.

I hate that you are so beautiful.
I hate      that you are
                                      So
                                            Beautiful.
At a price
I say it twice
                          It’s comical
                         Illogical
                        That for you I fall
Neurological
Psychological
                        The damage caused
                       Stall
                      Stall
                     Stalled.
                    Paused.

My head now full
         Cruel.
           Undo
             The damage that has spread
To bed
To bed
To bed
     It was said
       I hated how you were so beautiful
         When for twice those words were
      bled.