Humans, like all animals are flawed.
It’s ironic that our strongest weakness of all, Is the fact that so many refuse to admit it.
Difference makes us stronger
The glue to our society.
Every curve, edge, scar and dimple.
These are not imperfections, but evidence of the fact we are living
You are the one I see the world in.
You.
The world would surely be slighted without your existence.
Every single human life has value.
More than gold, more than all the money i’ll ever have
More than my own innocence
I look in your eyes and I see stars,
I gaze upon your skin and I witness Van Gogh's finest creation.
You may never see it in yourself, but It was present from the day you were born.
You refuse to see the beauty in your own imperfection.
There are some who say a child’s angelic face is closer to perfection than there ever will be
When I was young, carefree and filled with wonder
I saw a world filled with magic and monsters
I chased fairies in the garden, disguised as bright red ladybugs.
In each morning of fog, I would stretch my arms, and pretend to be one of the undead, here to consume all the candy I could get my hands on.
I saw a kind hearted king in my dad, smiling down on me from his throne
When each day came to a close,
I would come home at night, and tuck myself in, snuggling under my covers but unable to sleep.
I was forced to listen, as my parents exchanged harsh words to each other, barely muffled by the paper thin plaster of my room.
I could never understand why.
Why, In my perfect little world, would my parents fight?
Reality crashed down on me that day.
This was but beginning of the loss of my innocence.
As I grew, my bitterness grew with me. Each thin tendril pulsed and throbbed within me, pushing poison into my veins.
My mother, father, they weren’t the people I thought I knew
Suddenly all those monsters made my house their lair
One, an exceptionally large creature kept residence in my heart
Resentment.
It ****** me down, like a whirlpool, touching everything, tainting the very ground I walked.
One day my mother, approached me.
She had this look in her eye I couldn’t quite place.
Guilt? Pain? I will never know
She pushed me gently to my room, taking a seat at my desk.
She looked me in the eyes, and uttered these words “i’m sorry”
Those two words, I needed them, as a fish needs water.
I needed to know, that despite the hurt and the neglect, she still loved me
That day I realized what it means to be human. It means hurt, pain, mistakes, and so much more. But I’ll tell you, picking yourself up again, continuing to keep trying,
That, is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. We are human. Gloriously so. Who would we be without our flaws? It takes courage to fix your mistakes. But it takes so much more to embrace them. I looked each of you in the face, and I give you my hand. Take it.

Like diamonds in his eyes
sparkling like a waterfall in spring
each tear fell from my beloved's glistening chin
He wished for me to stay
With every fiber of his being
but I cannot
For the future calls my name

I love you.
My heart screamed for you alone from the moment we first drew breath.
How can you not see what I would do for you?
You're so beautiful.
I only wish to show you that.
Seeing you in the morning sets my soul afire.
The other girls i've been with, they are nothing.
Nothing, to what I see in you.
I long to hold you in my arms, keep you close.
Never let you go.
You don't seem to understand, the clothes I've bought for you, yes they may be a little..uh..skimpy but trust me!
You'll look great in them!
Declined offer after declined offer, you reject my advances.
Do I smell?
No, I'm sure you're just being too polite and would rather not waste my time.
I know I'm a great guy, but you're a great gal.
We're two of a kind, you and I.
It's so amazing that I met the love of my life right here at work.

Look.
I know I've been a little pushy, following you home,
but It's only to make sure you make it home alright.
Maybe I did find your number in the phone book and send you one..maybe 100 texts and calls, but it's only because I love you.
Why don't you see that?
I've done so much for you, and yet you throw it all away.
Is there something wrong with you?
Stop being such a ******* ***** and give in!

Oh, I see how it is.
I bet you're having *** with any guy you can, making sure to pass around all the STDs i'm sure you have.
I may be a ******, but it's because I'm saving it for the right person.
Unlike you.
You're so disgusting.
A nice guy like me is so much better off without an ugly **** like you.

Wow, really dodged a bullet there, amiright?

We are mere men
A pathetic shell of our former glory
My hand will always be reaching forward
To the heavens
Hoping to glimpse a pinprick
Of Gods cleansing light
We are nothing
But shadows in an image of the divine

You werent always this human
This weak
The immortal soul inside
Looking out just beneath your icy gaze
Will always yourn for what it once held close
Forever is a long time.
Yet, they say,
to feel its endlessness
Is blissful.
..Ignorant?

Does the fragile chick long to leave the egg?
Or does it live without choice, forced by nature and instinct to carve its way to freedom?

In this way,
the deep recesses of your mind will always drive your mortal body forward.
A living machine
Gods true image

How do we learn to speak?
What in our minds takes different sounds and connects the
To people, places, emotions
Take twins for example.
They both can communicate almost fluently in a language the average person is beyond Understanding
Humans are so funky!
You can almost see the gears turning behind someone's eyes when they think
So many take their minds for granted.
After all, it was us who build castles, kingdoms,  Step foot on the moon itself
Doubt is the killer of dreams
It is our intelligence that has allowed us to continue surviving
Thriving even
 Well, depends on who you ask.
I firmly believe that the sky's the limit.
All we must do is reach for it.

I am gay.
Gay, as in happy that I am still alive
Holding a hand, a kiss in broad daylight.
Some have lost their lives for less.

Don’t ask me, why so many violent acts begin with love.
A gentle caress or a caring word.
There is no logical reason.

Is it..fear?

Phobia is described as an intense and persistent fear.
Claustrophobia, Arachnophobia, Trypophobia.
Homophobia.
How can the love of one strike fear in another?

We use the term “in the closet”, decorating up the shadowed up life that is hiding who we are.
The closet is the best place to hide a skeleton.
Not a soul will come looking.

Put n that mask each day, go to work, talk with friends,
Always perceived as something other than the color you hide beneath.
Something normal, default.
Straight.

There is a spectrum of color running through these veins,
And all those before me, who had to fight tooth and nail to be seen.
Riots, screaming protests, pride parades under the threat of death.
Waiting with held breaths, to find out if you would be the next to die.

My mother tells me to love myself for who I am. Tells me I have a will like iron and a sensitivity thats softer than most
I am one of the lucky ones.
Leaving your safe haven that is the closet, can be like throwing a grenade.
Destroying everything in its vicinity.

Even when days get dark, I will continue on, for those who succumbed to the aids crisis, and others who have faded to oblivion.
For the thousands who died side by side,
their rags marked with a pale pink triangle.
They still live on.
In me.
In you.

So many lives lived in the dark.
A muffled cry trapped beneath neck ties and dresses.


It is time to spread those rainbow painted wings,
And fly.

The day I died time stopped.
I went out, not with a bang, but a whisper.
It is said that this is how the world will end
Mine certainly did.
Death wasn’t supposed to be like this.
It should be, raw, terrifying, Desolate
I should be surrounded by ghosts of the fallen, God himself,
Something, Anything!
Yet here I am
not a soul to be seen.
I am all alone, just death and I
Miles and miles of blackness stretch before me
It’s as if the sun was snuffed out, leaving me in eternal night
I stare into the void, searching for eyes I cannot see.
It stares back

Death is a beautiful thing.
It brings an end to all living things
And brings darkness into a world of light

It can bring people together, comforted in their grief.
Others, forever torn by the sorrow they now carry.

Each star in the sky reflects light from their crumbling core,
Falling apart from the inside out.
Yet we still find beauty in each fragile twinkle.
Perceptions change, so do we.

When we die, the earth consumes our very soul.
One with the soil that nourished us for so long.
Trees wildflowers spring from the bones,
reflecting the joy we once brought
In this way, we return what was borrowed.
Give thanks for the life we live.
Nature, though brutal, is famed for its extravagant beauty.
Why is our own mortality not viewed the same?

When I am gone, do not mourn me.
I am in the birds that sing,
The grass that grows,
The silence before dawn.
I am everything that was, and everything that will be.


Death is a beautiful thing.
The final question, the last journey.
An ending no living creature can escape

What if paradise is bristling with jungle and water?
Flat planes or marsh?
What if paradise is a endless city of palaces and wealth?
What if paradise is nothing at all and we cease to exist?

If you look closely, you can see the fire behind the eyes.
A slow smoulder or a blaze of light.
Is this is the soul, that is often spoken of in the world of religion?
Or rather, the raging life force that keeps our complex bodies
moving forward?

Watching that candle burn down to nothing,
Shrink to barely a dew drop of warmth,
is like watching the ocean draining.
Impossible, but very obviously happening, right before your eyes.
And when it’s gone, all you can ask, is why?
Why me? Why them?

Take a minute and ask yourself this.
Why is that strong fire within so soon forgotten once it’s spent?
Each and every happy memory..tainted.
Nothing left of the one you’ve lost but an image.
A frail hunched body.
Sunken in eyes, pale skin.
Look closer.
You may recognize the loved one you once laughed with.

A day may come when all those you have loved are gone,
And the quiet spots in life feel all the more lonely.
Cultivate your mother's favorite flowers,
Plant a bush over your pet’s favorite spot.
If you truly hold something in your heart,
It will always be there,
Kept safe until it is time to go.

I long for another life,
Far from the bustle of the city.
A place where I can breathe without a cough .
This world is far too big for me,
Too many stories being written and forgotten.
I want to relish the sound of silence.
Hold it close.
I’ve built a word all inside my head
Forest as far as the eye can see
A little log cabin with a patio, and a perfect green garden,
With all the flowers I could ever wish to smell
To be alone is to be free.
The scent of pine in the air,
Birds chirping all around me,
A large oak tree where I can read under the gentle caress of the sun
Maybe I'll get there some day
For now, I'll keep dreaming

I am walking a silent corridor of faces.
Every person I’ve ever spoken to.
The hall goes on and on, never ceasing.
How many lives have I Impacted?
Have I affected even on?
Who remembers me?
Will my name be on the lips of others when I am gone?
I’ve tried to live my life with no regrets.
“who would I be without my mistakes?”
Yet I can’t help but wonder.
how many lives have I ruined?
What's worse, oblivion, Or infamy?
Truth be told I don’t want to die alone.
There wouldn't be single person to hear my last words.
Not missed or mourned.
And maybe it’s for the best
By the time I’m dead and gone, those who know me may breathe a sigh of relief
Maybe it’s for the better, who would suffer after the death of a miser?

The truth does not always come from those you want to hear.
It may come from a cop, struggling to do his job without bias
A doctor, giving pregnancy results to unhappy parents
A judge, putting away countless offenders each day
The hardest jobs in life wear heavy on the soul

How does one discern lies from honesty?

it seems the worst of news, the harshest of criticisms come not from friends, family, but those unknown to you.
Sure, not knowing someone can provide some relief
Allowing us to distance ourselves from who we are speaking to
Maybe it isn't personal at all, and the speaker is the one who is truly struggling
Life is an endless whirlpool of harm or be harmed.
An assembly line, passing one cold word to the next.

Where does it end?
What happens when the line stops?
When someone refuses the natural order and throws the system to the wayside.
Will the world simply cease to exist?
After all, I am telling you the world is still turning.
What if that was a lie?

Is kindness for the sake of kindness honesty?
Or is it just a "white lie" and we are never telling the truth at all..?

These are all questions I seek to answer, but may never find them.
Will you be the lucky one to unmask the truth?

Sometimes hope comes in the strangest of shapes
It may be a single flower, clinging to the last breath of summer
A child’s first laugh
The first ray of sunlight as dawn approaches, just beginning to pierce the darkness
The first time I spoke your name
I look in your eyes, and I see home
Do you see the same in mine?The day I met you, You were sitting in the grass, singing softly to yourself
A crown on your head, fashioned with tall grass and dandelions
You seemed...at peace.
As if all of life’s worries were insignificant.
I rested in the soft grass, listening to your voice
the birds singing all around us
I fell in love with you that day,
And every day since

We are but machines of flesh and bone.
Carried forward by our ingrained desires.
I love you, because my DNA strives to further the gene pool.
Not because my heart is telling me that you, are “The One”.
I feel scared, when my friends ****** a cigarette into my shaking hands, not because I’m being betrayed by the very people I trust
But because my brain is telling me i’m in danger
That wooshy feeling when I dance with you isn’t glee
It’s adrenaline, telling me I need to run
I eat, sleep and dream because a pile of mush in my skull tells me to
How mundane is that?
How very dull.
Knowing that each thing we do isn’t original at all
And free choice is an illusion
We’re all slave to our bodies
Living from meal, to meal to meal.
Half of the people I brush shoulders with are as dumb as the animals they’re descended from.
And me, doomed to live in this walking nightmare we call life
till the end
as one of them.