we always have
perception
open mindedness
an idea
us
humans
created
to feel as if
theres some hope
in becoming pure
but theres
no pure people
if theres still earth
beneath my feet
to remind me of
the dirt of our
past and present
and pupils
differently sized
to remind me of
our future
and blood
that pulses off beat
to trigger a genetic
passover
to remind me
of the nature of it all
that imperfection
and mutation
drive evolution
that we are
essentially
****** up

everyday is an exertion
if you look hard enough
you can see my brain
in two places at once
but being this competent
has a consequent price
& I'm not even sure how to explain it
it seems with every accomplishment
i get further caught up in my abilities
my talents being a by-product
of unattainable stress
that i'll never be able to recognize
so when its time to shutdown
& cool off from the heat of the days work
i'm always stuck in the warmth of it
the fuzziness over my head
the future tasks awakening me
digging burrows in my skin
& nesting upon my amygdala
emotional strain detached
until the time comes when
the stress of accomplishment
becomes too much for even me
the double tasking
anxious achiever

i laugh and take a sip of air
the taste of my blood has a ting of iron
the snows starting to stain a passionate red, and so are my lips
i manage to get on my back, and make out the sky
its the only thing that isn't red
1,2
i reach for the park bench to my left and i ***** underneath it, twice
under my breathe i whisper “keep pushing” to the patch of grass beside me
i admire its determination through a rough winter, i think i hear it say “hold in there”
3,4
to my left i see black, but its a blue kind of black, a nice change from accustomed red
i soon make out the figure, i look up at the sky again, i don't want to be seen like this
then their feet quicken, and i manage to calm my breathing as the steam from their mouth escapes them, glistening in the air
5,6
i repeat the words “keep pushing” in my head, as stable arms take my weight
over his shoulder i see the patch of grass, i wave goodbye, ill see you again soon old friend
he smells like sugar, i whisper to him “im sorry”, his shirt used to be white
7,8
i tighten his neck and manage to gain sight of the distance
i close my eyes for only a second and wake up in my bed, new sheets
i whisper hello, but get no reply, probably for the best, i wouldn't want to wake my parents
9, 10
i wake up around 6am to the sound of gusting wind, goodbye friend i think to myself
beside me i find a glass of water and a single advil, i reach to grab the water, and a note falls out
it reads: “this is the last time laura”
i laugh and take a sip of water.