We are us.
We are corrupted.
We are human beings.
We think that we rule the world.
We don’t.
We say that we’re better than everyone else.
We’re not.
We think that we were meant to establish dominance.
We’re weren’t.
We say that we’re just kidding, that we didn’t mean it.
We do.
We think what we don’t say, and we say before we think.
We were meant to be kind to others, no matter how far it got us in life.
But we’re not.

I say that I’m fine
With tears streaming down my face.
I say that I don’t need anyone
While I’m reaching for you.
I say that I don’t need anything
From anyone,
But that isn’t true.
What I need the most is for someone to listen,
For someone to care.
What I need the most is someone like you.
How am I to tell you?
When I am afraid,
When I am reluctant,
When I don’t know what to say?
When I can’t form the words necessary?
When it’s stuck in my throat?
When I’m too nervous to say anything?
But you see through my front.
You see through my excuses.
You see through the lies
That I told to protect myself.
You see through all of the slanted truths
That make up the armour that I wear.
You discern the truth from the fallacy,
And I thank you for showing me the light
In the darkness.

What happens when you’re dying, and
you still have tasks that you need to complete? You fight harder to live.
You fight for your friends, your family, your love.
You fight for those who can’t fight for themselves.
You fight for the helpless.
You fight for the joyless.
You fight for those who don’t know how to fight.
You fight for yourself.
How does one fight for oneself?
You carry on, no matter what happens, no matter
what you do.
You must carry on.
Ultimately you die fighting for something too
far out of your reach.
You die searching for the one you love
or doing the things that you enjoy.
You die content, or you die incomplete.

My body is a bird
Too broken to fly
My mind is a fragile leaf
Hanging on ‘til it can’t anymore
You don’t understand
People scream at me
Shout at me
Screech at me
And there’s nothing I can do
People cry for me
They’d die for me
But I can’t do the same.

A
Rain
Drop can
Be a god’s tear
Shed on humanity.
It can be more poetic
Then a saturated sunset.
I’ve always loved the rain.
It trickles down, soaking skin,
Hair, and clothing. It hides our
Secrets, our pain, and our fear.
And we love it for that. But,
There are some who hate
It for the same
reason.