Funny how we ogle,
We observe,
Drive hours and hours to see dead things in their glass cases.
Browse them like wares,
Oily fingers on cleaned display cases,
Capture precious flesh and sinew in pins and needles.
Funny how we do the same thing to ourselves,
Encase ourselves with powder and resin.
Polish and glue,
We ink over the parts we dislike,
Turn ourselves into perfect statues of time and torture.
We poison ourselves with the things we claim will make us live forever,
Clog our pores with cream so thick we can’t move.

My mind is calm,
Empty,
But not in the way I cherish.
The whiteout is blank,
Motionless,
The water on a still lake.
I long for the storms,
Rivers,
Rainfalls of inspirations.
Instead,
All I get,
Is c a l m

I think my lungs are giving up

In
Out
In
Out

They’re tired.
I am tired.

I think I’m giving up.

Just a girl with
All the colours of the rainbow
Flickering behind her eyes.
The dullness of masks,
Of confusion,
Dulls the shine.
But when you look deeper,
Into her soul,
You see it brightening.
Ideas weave through like a river,
In the grassy fields of thought.
You see the hopes, the dreams, the fears,
Planted like seeds.
When she smiles,
The room lights up with the joy,
The sincerity,
Of the girl painted with all the colours of life.