At our fingertips, we have all the knowledge that we, as a species have collected. Billions of facts, millions, of observations, thousands of random little websites designed to educate or entertain.

But we spend our days and nights and days again talking to other people online; because no amount of facts or knowledge or little titbits of information could ever make up for a touch of human contact.

I want to be happy, so badly.
It hurts other people though.

Still alive and still here,
We're all just waiting for the pain to go away.
We want to be able to breathe past
The lumps in our throats
Or on our brains
Or in our hearts,
But we are stuck in a whirling inferno
Of triggering our own pain
And dying from it.

I am high of life.
I'm jumping up and down to a song
that I made up in my head
and life is ******* awesome.

I am reading the title of this,
And I am crying.

It'd be so nice, for my mother
To look at me

And think of how amazing
I am to be.

But instead, she looks at me
Like this.

Tiny little half moons,
four of them
in the palm of my hand.

There is so much I don't know,
So much I am unwilling to learn.
I won't understand,
Will never try to understand
Why people hurt each other.

I'm not asking you to understand why I don't want you to use this word to describe me. I'm asking you to refrain from doing so because it makes me feel like I'm getting in the car to go and find her again. Its reminding me of when I found her standing waist deep in a river crying because Michael said he wanted to die. Or when I helped her break up with her boyfriend because every time she'd tried to before, he'd grabbed a razor. Or crying in France because I needed her to take care of me for once. Or when he jumped on his computer because we borrowed it. Or when her parents shouted at each other. Or when she ran away.

I give up.

Rationally, I know everything's fine
Rationally, I know it won't happen again
Rationally, the memories should make it easier for me to handle now,
Rationally, I should feel better.

Irrationally, I find myself screaming
Irrationally, I find myself crying
Irrationally, I feel worse now than I did when the world was falling in,
Irrationally*, I feel alone.

By "it", you mean me.

Wanting, waiting, hoping, praying
For the weight to go away.
I want to be able to breath
To see,
To hear,
To touch another's hand.
Without having this tight,
Horrible feeling just above my heart.
My friend says I can control it,
If I want to
But I don't think he understands just what it is to wake up and fear the wind
Or the sun
Or the leaves or the trees or the people or the walls or the feelings.
Or myself.
I fear what I don't understand or can't control.
But I don't understand myself,
And I can't control myself.
So I wake up and I'm scared of the things within myself that make me 'me' because I don't know how to prove to myself that I'm not something to be feared.
I call it fear because there's no other word that can be related.
But its not fear
Or anxiety
Or paranoia
Or insecurity
Its a thought process one goes through when they can't trust themself.

When the world is so cold,
And the air is muffled by the sound of nothing growing,
Let me feel your breath on the crown of my head,
And the smile on my lips,
And the small circles you depict in the small of my back
That so quietly whisper "I love you."

The justice you do at the seat of a piano.

Oh,* the mind goes.
Does she mean me?
I assure you, that I don't.
I mean the little voice inside
Your head that said this
Applied to you.
You are brilliant;
**** that little voice,
The not-you
That says you're anything less
Than radiant.

We stand on ants,
We pinch and punch in the playground,
We kick and claw in alleyways,
Slap and bite in the bedroom.
Guns and bombs and knives,
We're all killers,
We're all cursed.

To love unconditionally,
Without restraint or guilt,
Is all I want to do.

To be loved unconditionally,
Without fear or-

*oh who cares, it won't happen.