In the modern age, the valued sage is an archetype that we can't explain

Because it seems that every man
Who claims to hold truth in his hand

Needs your cash and its his plan
To build an army that will forever expand

Its not enough for you just to fear him
He wants your trust and time and freedom

Tells you to live a certain way
And that better not be queer or gay

And if you are he'll surely say
That you could not be born that way

He'll make you feel such guilt and shame
For being you, yes that's the game

To make you need that saving grace
That's found within his holy place

The walls and roofs of institutions
Save you from hell's dark exclusion

On a day to day basis people ask me how I am
I have come to realize that this is a habitual response rather than a genuine inquiry
On most days, I say 'ya know, I'm alive," and I don't bother to ask this question in return.
On my better days, I'll say "I'm good, how are you?"
And I'll watch as their mouth mimics the same lies in response.
I've started to wonder if anyone else can feel the emptiness in our words
Aren't they supposed to mean, something?

During my senior year I was voted most talkative, my yearbook reminds me of how much I've grown
I used to take pride in that social chatter, being able to talk anyone's ear off, or being seen as bubbly and bright just because I knew how to waste time with the filler words.
Now, I tend to keep my mouth shut. I've learned that not everything needs words.
Why it's socially acceptable to ask mere acquaintances how they are, subconsciously reminding them of all the things going wrong in their lives, when we fully know that no one wants to hear the truth. In fact, they look down upon the truth. Don't you dare say the words depression, anxiety, ptsd, mental illness or anything else for that matter. If you can't muster up the "I'm good," it seems, the only other acceptable response is "I'm tired," because, "I'm tired" has become the go to blanket term for every other emotion.
But you know what I'm tired of? People, who don't even care, asking me how I am, because now I can't even stop lying to myself.
The other day my friend asked me if I was okay. In my most convincing voice, I said "I am - always, okay"
They looked at me and mumbled "not okay"
I didn't need their words. I believe that all words are empty until someone fills them up with the presence of their soul. I may not have as many friends as I used to, but the friends that I do have speak with sincerity. When they say something, they draw from life experiences and offer these pieces of themselves, something I do not take for granted.
I collect the pieces and keep them as treasure.
Words are so valuable, as long as you don't leave them empty.

Warm hands outstretched,
Hey, are you okay?
Welcoming eyes of fire,
Please, I'm asking you to stay.
And now I realize, that at that first touch,
I should have walked away.

I can't walk in
flowered printed heels
I've watched you study yourself in
the mirror
steady neck leading down to
gentle shoulders and halcyon hands
sour ideas filling my brain I'm
imagining my hands
sweetening your concerned
soft-muscled legs
into certainty
bronze-brown strands of curly hair
on dark grey seats
I sense dancing trees behind me
and savor the beautiful bitterness
of abyssal secrets
on my saccharine tongue
your collar bones are silken
and veiled with Taurus-led
misunderstandings.
mine are always veiled with
uncertainty and
sporadically veiled with
you

The urge to attain is a curse that will steal the beauty of the present moment
Chasing this urge is the trap that all of us fall into
In the chase you will never be content with where you are
Because there is always somewhere better
There is always something else
Someone else
So I have stopped chasing
I have surrendered my will to the rivers of fate and I will float down this river until it takes me across the great divide