Most days, I am still a human being
Complete with a growing body
A growing mind
And two left feet

Most days, if feels like a good fit
I have learned to use these legs
To take purposeful steps,
Long and leading

Sometimes, I fall flat on my face with flair
For me, to be human is to be clumsy
But it also learning how to make peace

Walking down the street
I count the pairs of eyes that turn to meet mine
And see that they are few and far between
To be human is to be afraid of other humans

And that reality has never sat well in my stomach,
It aches anvils in the bottom of my belly
Bends bright light into muted hues
Happiness is reaching

But my arms are long limbs
And growing all the time

At the ends are these hands;
Meant to hammer or to hold
Being human begs a balance
But the scale tips too often
And our fingers close to clench

Letting go is never easy
But I have learned that breaking
Never brings resolution

Too many humans have never learned that truth
They don’t see that no one’s temple was built to conquer
Anger is a heavy load that no back was meant to bear
And that an empty hand was made for waving
But when holding a gun, it gains new meaning
And bullets weren’t forged to give good greetings
Our bodies were never built to be bombs.
And they would know that if they listened
To their own hearts just beating,
More times in a single day than all the hateful words
I could ever think to say.

And I admit my own mind wasn’t created
To comprehend codes or complex mathematics
But I am blessed with an understanding of basic equations:

One ear plus one ear means that I should always be listening
Add 28 teeth, a tongue plus a voice and there is never a reason for me
Not to say how I’m feeling
Two lips plus two lips
Sometimes equals a kiss
And when it doesn’t,
X amount of sadness plus
Y number of friends means no one ever has to truly be alone

Being human can be beautiful if you don’t let it break you.
Even when it does

Most days I am human
But there are mornings I wake up
Feeling like so much less
On the days when my genetics take the turn to depression
And simple mathematics feels too complex to comprehend,
Even on these days, I can defer
To the most basic lesson in anatomy;

Our bodies are not accidents
We have been put together perfectly
To perpetuate existence peacefully as possible

And all the pieces have already fallen into place
All that is left
Is to live.

No, you're wrong.

Everyone is as beautiful
as they can possibly be

Particularly at lunch
in a laughing restaurant

Everyone is as beautiful
as they can possibly be

And they are moved
by their own beauty

And they shed tears for it
in the back of the taxi home

How do you explain

to your children that the

horrors of the world are real?

How will I tell my son, We

found a place you can call home but

your bus might not make it to school.

Do not look too Jewish in this part of town

Do not play in the train station

Do not get used

to the weight

of a machine gun.

Or look my

daughter in the eye and say, someday

you might say “no” and someone stronger than you might

not listen

You will not tell me

Know that this happens a lot

Know that your wrists pinned against a

backboard will

echo in the way you move your hands

for as long as you let it

But

human hands aren’t as heavy as metal shackles

And I’m so sorry

but I won’t be able to

take the weight for you

You’ll wake up in the morning

That I can promise you

You’ll wake up

and your lungs will fill with air

whether you tell them to or not.

One day

I will hold someone

small, with my face

and they’ll cry and I’ll say,

*I know.

I know you’re tied with little yarn strings to the last life

I know it hurts to be here and

(honestly)

you’re never going back

But

the older you get the less you’ll remember

what it was like

before you had a body

when you were made of ash and infinite light

You’ll convince yourself you live here and

that your hands are you,

But remember that once you were boundless

Inside my body, without yours.