Countries are like religions

They are all make believe
And I don’t believe in them equally

When people fail to have reverence for all existence’s existence
That is when they have failed in their faiths deliverances

When the blade is touching the skin
And you can feel it digging in,

And one cut is all that it would take
To remove yourself from this worldly place,

I hear the angel cry out to me;
Not yet ready for me to wake up and see.

After this dark night’s dream,
Where I have a restless sleep,

I’m still walking along the grounds to find
All that will be found within due time.

But one day,
Not too far from now,

I know I will begin again to plea,
“Why, oh why, can I not be free?”

So in my mind I go beneath the weeping willow tree
Where I rest my thoughts internally.

Alone,
And with nothing more,
Other than the over content meadow
And the infinitely brilliant
Everlasting
Shore.

Too weird to fit in
Too normal to not belong
Individual

The love
That people
Are made of