Without one, there cannot be the other.
It is the sometimes harmonious,
sometimes discordant,
blend of dark and light,
that stirs within our shells,
creating life,
creating being.

It is the dark that makes the light angelic,
for it is when we have crawled from our deepest depths,
that we can truly bask in the glow
of glory and satisfaction.

It is the light that casts shadows,
making our darkest corners apparent;
it is the light that illuminates our flaws and errors
for the world to mock.

Observe the ever-moving flux and flow
of our twisted souls,
a hopeless state of affairs.
Confused and distorted
are we.

Seeking peace and calm
in our darkness;
our cowardice at the thought
of enlightenment.

Blackness engulfing,
troubles disappearing,
mistakes forgotten,
blemishes concealed.
Let us find solace in our weakness.

Let us crawl into the blackened crevices
of our souls.
But let light tease our toes and coax us
back out.
Let us not become swallowed and abused
by our fears.
But let us not burn and wither in the heat
of ourselves.

I am my own worst enemy.
       I know my weaknesses.
       I know how to tear myself down,
       Leave myself hopeless,
       Confused, betrayed.
It’s funny how I think I'm only
       Looking out for myself,
       When I'm really looking
       For how to make myself fall.
I cannot hide from myself.
       I am always lurking,
       Waiting for a sign of weakness,
       Predicting the next move,
       Begging to pounce.
I am addicted to self-destruction.
       I **** myself
       And it kills me
       To know that it’s all my fault
       Yet I'm still breathing.
It makes no sense.
It’s not logical.
        It’s not pleasant,
        But maybe just maybe
        If I can survive myself,
I can survive anything.

Daintily dressed in white,
We sit.
Watching souls
File down the aisles of our mind’s eye,
A never-ending stream
Of people to whom life was denied.
Six million.

Today,
We remember
Those who bore our identity
Whom their world hated, imprisoned, killed,
Who walked to their death
In silent rebellion.

Behind the tall backs and straight necks,
Behind eyes dry of tears,
Lie broken and scattered souls,
Destitute hopes,
And dreams of a day to come
Crying out in vain.

We thank God we are whole.
We are not the ones who were
Picked apart,
Conviction casted away,
Limbs left lifeless,
Nothing but empty shells
Of a people once strong.

We thank God we live in a time
Where that shell has been filled.
We pray we may never see
That emptiness in us.
The thirst, hunger,
fire,

The blinding billows
Of smoke,
Choking out dignity.
No hope or prayer for life
Left,
Only the hope that this
Atrocious massacre
Will never be repeated.
Will never be forgotten.

Sometimes I like to be alone,
Being alone excuses you from
Following social norms,
Of feeling judged for every little thing
You do right,
Or wrong.
You are no longer under the watchful
Eye of society;
You are free.

Loneliness by choices is a very different
Matter than from those times
Where you feel completely alone
In a sea of people.
Another benefit of being alone:
You do not feel alone.
It is an active choice of removing
Yourself
From those around you.
It avoids feeling rejected, unwanted,
Intruding on the wonderful,
Golden world of the accepted.
Instead you can have your own
Perfectly and selectively chosen
Party of you.

Here you are number one.
You are the best
At everything and anything.
You are the strongest, prettiest, fastest, smartest.
But you are also the worst.
The weakest, ugliest, slowest, dumbest.
But maybe it’s worth being the worst
If it means you can be the best,
Too.

In the real world,
There are always people better than
You.
There are always people worse than
You.
But in the real world, it is hard to feel
The best at anything,
While feeling the worst is,
Almost,
Natural.
That is why I prefer to be alone.
I encourage you to join me,
But not to actually join me,
For my party of one is full.
But you are welcome to reap the
Benefits of being utterly alone
Somewhere far away from me,
Where I am spared of your judgments,
And you of mine.
Together we can live in bliss,
Separately and
Alone.

How can I ever be strong
When I know there is this
Incurable weakness writhing
Within me?
Every time, I repeat my mistakes
Because I am too weak to say no.
Every time, I miss opportunities
Because I am too weak to say yes.
Every time, I fall into self-pity
Because I am too weak to make myself
Better.
I can see myself
Stronger, improved, worthier
But I cannot remain on the path to
Success
For my childish weakness trips me
And drags me down
And I am too weak to fight off my own
Weakness.

How can I ever be good
When there is so much bad
Swirling within
And strangling me?
I cannot suppress the evil and twisted
Thoughts that sprout from my mind.
I cannot help but take delight in them,
Somehow find pleasure in their utter
Despicableness.
And I cannot help but find a sour pride
In possessing such horrible thoughts,
As if it makes me special.

How can I ever be me
When I am completely influenced
By the people around me?
I am a collage of mirrored traits
And characteristics
Adopted from friends and family.
All my aspirations of personhood
Are tainted by society’s ideals.
Nothing is truly mine.
Nothing is truly original.
I am trapped in a never-ending cycle
Of give and take,
Repeat and release.

How can I ever be happy
When I know death awaits me?
And while I live on this Earth,
I am merely a meat suit,
Imitating the ignorant beings around me
While weakness and evil
Manifest within my body.
Maybe death is not such a bad thing.
It is escape from myself,
My poisoned, tainted being,
My sad excuse of a life
Without hope of redemption,
For all humans are the same:
Wicked little beings hidden behind smiles
And good intentions.