It's been 48 hours
Since I had you

It's been 48 hours
Since I saw you

It's been 48 hours
Since I felt you

And in those 48 hours
I realized how much I hate you

To instil fear into others, as a way to make them show you respect,
Is being afraid you will not be respected for who or what you really are.

Let me clear something up:
ALL HUMANS ARE PSYCHOS.

And you can't tell me otherwise
Because we are.
We weren't born this way,
We were made.

And yeah you may not act like it,
But let me tell a secret...
You've got it in you.

We all do.
We can all be bad.

We weren't born good or bad.
When we were born,
We were like clay.
Mouldable.

We were taught the differences between good and bad.

We were taught to be good.

But do we really know the difference?

Say a kind person is called 'good'.
That same person can hate someone.
That person can be bad.

Because being a bad person isn't just killing someone,
Or stealing, doing drugs.

A bad person has dark thoughts.

And you can't tell me you have never had such a thought before.

Because I know you have.

Therefore, all humans are technically bad.

We just don't consider ourselves to be
Because our definition of good and bad,
Isn't ours.

It's someone else's.

Our definitions are based on what we see around us.

People may be innocent...
But that doesn't mean that they're not bad.
They just haven't done anything...
Criminal.

Yet.

Love is a blissful thing.
But when heartbreak comes around,
It becomes the most painful.

Although, sometimes, maybe the pain's worth it.

~

I just wanted silence.
Is that so hard to hear?
They misunderstood.
I didn't want them to disappear.

Are you so lost,
In your decadent flowers,
That you can't see a thing
Going on around us?

I can't fix things.
Things that aren't broken.
I wish I was drunk on rain,
I like it better than oxygen.

Are your roots so small,
That you can't even gather,
What little that's left
Of all of the water?

A drunk man's words
Are sober thoughts.
But a drunk tree's words
Say more than a lot.

You hide behind your leaves,
And those twisted vines.
Trying to look pretty.
Yelling that you're fine.

I've got terms and conditions.
Ones not so hard to follow.
Just be a lot quieter,
In your misery, you shall wallow.

But you need water.
You need care.
Otherwise, you won't grow
And you'll die right there.

You can share my apples,
But know this,
I may grow apples,
But I like oranges.

~

Even the prettiest of flowers have to die.
It is, after all, the will of God.
Nature can try its hardest, but God seems adamant.
Nature will meet death.
It will die slowly,
Which seems the most painful.
Unfair, isn't it?

Why can't I hit the
High notes
Side note
Let me make you
My own
Rainbows
Low notes
Tell me something I don't
Know
Who goes
Your gold
My go
Give me silver
And no more
Let me take you to the
High road
Say no
Why can't I hit the
High note
Solo
So please don't
Let me go down under.

A short life, but adventurous, nonetheless.
Die young, in a mysterious way,
When your body is still beautiful.

Your mind is still remembered.
What is that, if not immortality?
Your eyes dead, but your breath still lingering.

Most of us die,
Our existence shoved into a drawer.
As bright as we may have been.

Our fires are put out.
The pages shred.
Our dreams, our spirit, scattered.

Mortality runs in all our veins,
We are all subject to death,
But not all death is permanent.

After all, most of us
Are only mortals,
Simply wishing for immortality.

Something we know we won't have.

I don't feel like myself
I feel like yelling
I feel like crying
And I don't feel like writing
But here I am
.
.
.
Because it's supposed to help
They said it helps

I stopped asking a long time ago.
What should I do?
Where do I go?

I stopped playing the game a while ago.
How do you win?
What do you know?

I stopped staring some time ago.
Should I look away?
Or let them know?

I stopped running just days ago.
Do I keep going?
Should I lie low?

I stopped time and time again.
I chose to stop back then.
Now I choose to start again.

Human nature is what makes us human -

Human nature is a bunch of characteristics.
Characteristics that include ways of thinking, feeling and acting,
Which humans have naturally.
It can lead to many things, both good and bad.

Is this what being a human is?

Fear, anger, love.
They aren’t weaknesses.
Without emotion,
We would just be empty shells of things that look like people.
Our thoughts,
Even the silliest ones,
Can lead to something big.
Every thought is important.
Our mistakes
Form us into who we’re meant to be.
Without mistakes,
We would never learn.

What does it really mean to be human?

To be human means having and showing emotion.
To be human means having the freedom of being whomever.
To be human means to accept all that you are.
To be human means to love and live freely.

Human nature. Being human. It makes us who we are.

my urge to pop a
child's
balloon
and watch them cry
as i laugh
is
overwhelming

it's on par with my urge
to shove
a knife in my throat
just to
see
what happens

how morbid. i know

but aren't we all?

Who are we really?
We walk around this world with no purpose,
Destroying it with our every move.
Do you know why we're here?
Or what we were sent here for?
I don't know why we are here,
Or why we even exist.
All I know is that it certainly wasn't to ruin the home we were so freely given.