With only a lifetime to behold

*waste no time pondering.

Damaged goods
Hopelessly lost
My existence fading
Too tired to fight
Nothing left to cherish
Complete surrender

Hoping to suffocate my hardened heart
I locked it away in a padded box
Intentionally misplacing the key

Then you appeared...
Familiar stranger
Remembered soul
Such a perfect contradiction
Strong and gentle
Warm and cool
A serious man and a playful child

Rescued by your words
Saved by your compassion
You have awakened my emotions
From their deepest sleep

I breathe for you…I wait for you

My uncle.
Who I love.
Is a peculiar man.
He once told me of the oddest conspiracy.
He said that the reason major governments of the earth don't fight each other constantly, is because the already do.
In space.

Each country has a ship.
Armed and maned to the teeth.
And they just shoot at each other.
Everyday.
And that's how all of the big national disputes were settled.
Star Trek style.

So when I heard this, I tossed my thoughts into the atmosphere.
Letting them swirl and shine among the satellites.
What did they do, up there?
Sitting in their spaceships.
Thinking of each other.
Wondering why they all were stuck in tin can time bombs.
Surrounded by the icy void.
Waiting for their ships to be shot out of the sky.
The debris to fall through children's dreams and shooting stars.
Spitting sparks like ancient dragons.

And these people wait for that.
Hidden from sight and mind.
Only just to shoot at each other.
Over a border, a mans wish, or a loaf of bread.

There were some Mountains.
Storms raged.
Stone split.
Time wore on.
And there great heights,
were reduced to tiny Grains.
Millions of tiny Grains.
Heat and air.
And then Glass.
So much beauty.
From such beauty as before it.
And in reflection of the beauty it is gifted to.
You.

I swear to you, officer,
I tell the truth.
I was the witness
to a most terrible crime.

You see,
there are people out there,
in the world
(you must have seen them before, sir)
who tend to despise themselves
simply for being who they are.

There isn't actually anything wrong with them
not anything you would see on X-ray scans
or a medical sheet
with little x's through boxes
and unreadable scribbles of tangible symptoms.

but their tears are tangible all the same.

The crime, sir,
is the fact that
sadly, no one sees
that figurative demons
can be as real as any disease.