Hopeless nights of our lungs giving out. Last July, you promised this would all stop.

But here I am. Grasping the bed sheets wondering where you are? Do you want to be with me?

When you're alone you call me and kiss my face. I give in again.

But tonight is different the despair had won this race of lies. I'm tired of competing when I'm never gonna qualify.

Humans like to think
Other humans are
Replaceable.
Humans like to think
That they themselves
Are not.

But let me let you in on a secret:
Everyone is either a lesson
Or a blessing.

No lesson can be replaced,
And neither can any blessing.

Because in some way,
They were necessary to make you who you are.

I was told recently
About a book.
"The Missing Piece" by Shel Silverstein.

The lesson I was given from this book,
Is that you can have all kinds of pieces!
Pieces that don't fit, pieces that would never fit,
And pieces that look like they should fit but don't at all.

So if you ever feel replaceable,
Remember you are someone's perfect missing piece.
You just have to sort out through all the not-so perfect pieces first.

And before I cut this off,
I should explain,
Your perfect piece is not perfect because it is perfect in the textbook definition of the word.
Your piece is perfect
Because you will be so completely perfect to someone (All your damage, broken parts, and scars too) that you will not need to be perfect, no.

You will just have to be you,
And that in itself
Is irreplaceable.

A girl sits alone on worn, cracked steps
Not seen by any, but seeing of all
She sees the beauty, and lovely things
She sees the ugly, and tragic things

People pass by the worn steps, isolated from all
They need to see, she thinks
To see the beautiful and lovely things
To see the ugly and tragic things

Pen in hand, paper on lap
Chewing on lip, taking a breath

She writes of tenderness,
A cheeky child grinning as he embraces his mother

She writes of adrenaline,
A reckless teen screaming as he jumps off a waterfall

She writes of anguish,
An old man sobbing as he holds his lifeless dog

She writes of loneliness,
A girl sitting alone on worn, cracked steps

You see where we're different,
But I see where we're not.

And maybe that's a dangerous way to be,
But I think my ****** bleeding heart would rather go out this way.

Don't you see where we're the same, too?

We all live by the same philosophies,
Protect what is ours.

But what if we protected each other?
What if we were kind of kind to one another?

Show empathy and understanding,
Humans are much too wrapped up in being
"Individuals"
That we'd rather be bad and cruel and knock each other down
Than be the kind of individuals
We actually need.

And in our misunderstanding
Of each other and our similarities,
It saddens me to say,
We become even more
The same.