I never understood life.

Well, who cares –

Life never understood me either.

I wake,
but I don’t arrive.

I brush my teeth,
scroll my phone,
drink my thoughts
with lukewarm tea.

The clock ticks,
not like a heartbeat
but like a metronome
keeping time
for a song I no longer sing.

I answer emails,
nod in meetings,
smile where it fits.
I am present,
but not here.
Every day feels
like a copy
of a copy
of a dream I once had.

I miss surprises.
I miss meaning.
I miss the version of me
that thought this would feel
like living.

But I keep going.
One task. One sigh.
One “maybe tomorrow
I’ll feel something.”

Because even machines
need maintenance.
And I
am still
trying
to stay alive.

I lie
I steal
I sneak
I fake
I manipulate
I'm not the person that you see
I'm only as much as I allow you to see
don't you believe?
that isn't me
you shouldn't believe
everything you read
I'm not
all that I appear to be

I wonder–

Will a world full of poets
Be happy
or sad.

If you cry, dear
I'll let you
Hold you in my arms
Tell you that you'll be alright
I'll collect your teardrops
And release them outside
On a dandelion seed
And say
"Look at the beauty your sadness created"

And maybe you'll say
"But it's a ****"

And then I'll respond
"But I love and want it in my garden
It's beautiful
And so stubbornly alive
Just like you
Because instead of dying
You cried
And now the world is more magical
Now the world is just more poetry"

And then we'll hold hands
And walk on the same earth
At the same time
And think about how many more dandelions we can grow
If we keep on existing

And we do
And we laugh
And we cry
And we live
And we almost die
But we don't
Because we need to tell more weeds they're beautiful

You say you hate your body
Many people do
But the human body is art
And nature
Which means that so is everything we hate about it

It's okay to have scars
The trees have them too
And they're still beautiful

The stretch marks on your skin
Are but the lightings in the sky
The beautiful, beautiful lighting
And those bumps are the stars

The fat, extra skin, cellulite are just the beautiful ocean water
And our hair is grass in an open field

And all of this is Art
Magic
Poetry
Nature
All of this is beautiful
So are you