I want to be wrapped up in the arms of someone I love.
I'm not sure who,
But they look and smell a lot like you.

You consume me in pain and you know how to
And I'm not sure if it's more tragic that I give in to it,
Or that you torment me to begin with.
Because each time this happens to me I just take it like a stone,
Being pushed down a hill with no set destination.
I let you kick me and toss me,
Sometimes into a soft grassy area,
And others times into a cold body of water.
And I should be buoyant,
I should know how to float.
But I always thought porous, buoyant objects were the weakest.
So with that said I can tell you something about myself:
I thought that being heavy and dull would get me by.
But little did I realize that lighter objects,
Are able to soar through the air in a way I'll never know.
They can float and regain composure,
And eventually dry themselves off.
However, I'm just sinking.
Whether it be in a puddle, in mud,
Or to the bottom of a lake.
And from there, I will continue to sink,
Lower and lower,
Into the depths of the murky, grotesque, filth that coats the bottom of this lake.
And now I am here, in this pile of filth.
And you would think that I'd try and pick myself up,
That I'd attempt to make myself float,
But no.
Instead, I will rest here for eternity and make this **** my home.
I'll learn the names of each organism, and possibly help them grow.
I will pretend that it's fine,
When plant life grows on me,
And when I become the layer on the bottom of the lake.
And when it is time for me to perish,
I will accept this sentence with complete and utter confidence,
And already have the advantage of being halfway sunken underground,
So I can rest six feet under with ease.
Instead of being thrusted one last time,
Soaring through the air, basking in the knowledge that when I land I will perish.
No,
I am already here.
I have already accepted this fate.
And possibly, if you try to consume me once again,
In a fiery consumption of misery and despair,
I will not catch a flame.
For I am concerned in muck,
Wet, disgusting debris,
And am no longer flammable.

By nature, we are spiritual.
Humanity: we praise each other, we praise higher powers,
We worship idols, deities, money, and fashion.
I have no hope for us, anymore.
For we used to be spiritual and truly believe,
We used to see with eyes instead of lenses,
Touch with hands instead of phrases,
Love with meaning and not with numbers,
Pray to something other than computers.
We used to worship our earth and the land provided,
But now we just sink into seats of leather,
Use a remote and stare at moving pictures.
We are no longer innovative, intelligent, or simple,
Instead we are overflowing with unnecessary knowledge that only benefits our outer aesthetics.
We no longer think with our minds but with devices in our hands,
That not only think and talk for us but have become us.
We are no longer humans,
We are no longer animals.
We are fake, processed chemicals.
We might as well be genetically modified fruits.
We are programmed and brain washed
That our way of thinking is incorrect,
That we are unable,
That we are obsolete.
We are no longer humans but merely gods ourselves,
making us question everything including the existence of it all.
If we are truly beautiful creatures why is earth a living hell?
We are spiritual by nature but how can we believe
in anything when all we know is me?

You are a carnivorous plant
Seeking to consume any beautiful thing that comes near you.
Not for survival,
But for the mere thought of it.
Your brain is your host and your body feeds off it,
Even the thoughts that make your stomach sick,
But you continue because you feel you have to,
Because they tell you to.
So feed off me you vicious animal,
Tell me you need me only to drop my bones beside your feet
And lick your teeth clean.
I am nothing to you nor am I anything to myself,
I am nothing to everyone else.
So continue on your way and consume my every thought,
And I will regenerate myself just as I always have before.
So tear me apart only to put me back together,
And then rip me apart again.

It still hurts when your name runs through my head,
Not as sharply as it used to but the pain is still there
faintly, like the words I never said,
Although words lose their strength over time.
Even your name lost that old, familiar chime that used to ring
but it has lost its luster and I am perfectly okay
With each passing year and each dragging day.
However, I can't help but feel sadder in the winter
because that's when you told me
You needed to discover
New places and new people.
I told you that I loved you only twice when I was with you
But each time I glanced into your eyes I hope you knew.
I bet you knew.
So, it still hurts when your name runs through my head,
And I can't help but imagine what we would be
If you reciprocated the feelings and pulled your arms around me.
The faint whisper of your name sometimes puts me to sleep,
So I hope that you saw all you needed to see.

To be strong
But I am only just a seed
Struggling to grow without a hand to water me.

And now the future is palpable,
And I can almost just barely taste it
On my lips
Just like the chapstick
I applied 15 minutes ago.
The future is in my range
And I can just barely smell it
Just like the perfume I applied this morning.
I can smell it faintly, when I notice it
But times the smell disappears,
As I get used to it;
only to be reminded of it
When I receive a hug of congratulations
And my friend will say, "You smell nice".
And in that moment I sniff my sleeve to try and smell myself
And get frustrated when my chapped lips feel rough against the texture of my shirt.
So I reach into my pocket, and struggle to find a small skinny tube,
I grasp it in my fingers and apply it to my lips
Afterwards licking them,
Smiling,
Because I can taste the future once again.