I have this feeling
that even if human beings
came with a tag of instructions
on how to care for one another
sewn on some conspicuous part of our person,
most of us would just ignore it.

We all just
machine wash jerkface,
tumble dry to broken pieces.
Tumble dry into
thousands
of little
broken
pieces.

And you can see it, you know?
On us.
Where someone didn't read
those directions carefully
or at all.
Where the colors ran—
reds to whites to pinks.
Where the holes are worn bare,
and the fibers shriveled and shrank.

So we live with those stains,
those noticeable imperfections.
We’re so conscious of it at first,
afraid that everyone will notice
that our instructions weren't followed.
We hesitate to let
someone else try their hand
at doing it right
this next time around.

But we gotta, 'cause
much like ***** laundry,
human yearning is
a ruthless, never-ending cycle.
Fighting it only really makes you
the smelly kid in class.

Just mind your delicates,
pay attention, take your time,
and hand wash that **** worth keeping.

I've been feeling so alone
And so lost
As if I was trapped in the dark forest of my mind
Not knowing which way is out
And which way is into further isolation
And than I walked
And walked
With music playing in my ears
Alone
But I wasn't lonely
I was free
And I wished that I could just walk forever
Not away from anything
Not to anything
Just walking
forever