What does it mean to be human?
The answer is far past biology,
and out of reach from philosophy.
Humans have pondered this question since they could speak,
sat around fires while living in caves,
They asked these questions from inside Babylon's gates,
and debated those answers since Greece and Rome,
how can we not have answered this question asked so long ago?

What does it mean to be human?
To have stardust in our veins?
To wonder and ponder,
constantly searching to understand each other,
often failing along the way.

I think being human means to doing all these things,
failing,
and getting up to do them again anyway.

The most damaging thing we've embraced as modern society is the consistent romanticization of everything,
by doing so we've convoluted love and lust.

This constant lustful romanticizing of everything,
it's ruining us.

We cannot fix hate in this world without love,
but we don't even know what love is anymore.

Love,
Real TRUE Love,
it's the most difficult thing in this world, but also the easiest.
It's hard.
Hard to find,
Hard to maintain,
Hard to keep.
Because real love is not an Disney movie fairytale happy ending,
it's a constant choice.

Real love takes effort, time and care.
You cannot simply swipe right on true love.

Lust and Love,
One is the most powerful emotion on the planet,
And the other?
A Kardashian worthy filter fake,
often not caught until too late.

I should wear a sign,
Posted for all to read,
“No soliciting.”
Would that be an easier thing to comprehend?
As, apparently, my words are not enough.
Not enough in volume,
In weight,
Oh especially not enough to stop anything,
Or anyone
From speaking
Unsolicited,
Throughly unhelpful,
Opinions.

Oh!
Sorry,
Sorry,
I forgot, they were selling “advice,”
Marketing switched words again…
BOGO I guess!

Though I find my soul is often disquieted,
and my heart seems perpetually heavy,
my bones
Oh, these bones...
They are more alive than words can describe.

I find my heart and soul are soft,
malleable,
prone to bruising,
and my heart has grown especially fragile.

But these bones of mine,
Oh, these bones...
blessed with unknown strength,
but not rigid.
Much like palm trees,
they weather the strongest of hurricanes,
swaying, dancing
leaning to the winds of life,
but always snapping back to place.

You remind me of Atlas,
Shouldering the heavens,
Cursed,
Never to let sky touch upon the earth.
Oh, what a burden...
Lift with your legs!
Embody your role,
understand what it means to be a Telamones.
Endure.

When I was younger,
I had a plant.

I loved my plant and took good care of it.
I watered that plant every single day,
I talked to it,
I made sure it had the best angles of sunlight,
but
my plant still died.

I sobbed for hours,
my father tried to console me,
but when asked that ever bothersome one word question
"Why?"

He simply said,
"Plants can die from too much care,
just as they can die from drought."

What doesn't **** you makes you stronger,
at least that's how the adage goes.
But it fails to mention how strength can be shrouded in woe.

Sometimes what failed to **** me makes me
bitter
untrusting
and quick to rage.

On the days where sadness permeates the air,
Where the only thing I can feel is despair,
I find myself wanting you here, not there.
Wishing for your shoulders to share in the burden,
hoping for some wisdom,
to ease in the hurting.
But then I hear a songbird chirping,
and the sweet sound of chiming bells,
and I know you're here wishing me well.

When I was younger, I refused exiting a car unless the song was done,
I sat, eyes wide, under the sky
watching clouds,
watching stars,
letting them fill me with wonder, warm with light.
When I was younger, but older still,
I met a boy.

He told me keep walking,
never taking his eyes off the ground.
For to him the sky was just sky,
the clouds were just clouds.
And a song was only ever just that, a song.
After a while, I believed him.

Today, I sat in my car.
Bass booming, late for work, but I didn't care.
I wanted to watch the clouds,
I needed to finish the song.

It’s said a smile shows warmth, confidence.
But in the animal kingdom,
to show your teeth is a sign of aggression,
or predatory intent.
But they’ll say that’s just happenstance,
and act shocked at what happens next.

Toxic things, nightmare dreams
None of them meant a thing.
I want you, you don't want me,
So round,
         round,
            merrily go round.
down,
    down,
down we go,
   down,
       down,
           down the rabbit hole.

Your words hollow, much like your head.
I can no longer believe any words said.
For actions speak much more truthful,
and eloquently than your mouth.
Within them, I suspect, the truth is truly found.

I've been told
No one loves the girl so openly critical of the world.
So Romeo, oh Romeo
stay far, far away
There isn't much to explain,
that girl and I,
we are one and the same.
A collection of mixed up,
once shattered,
broken shards.
Carefully glued back together,
not looking to be broken again.

Normal.
adjective, 2 syllables, and the ultimate struggle.
"Just be normal"

the hardest lesson i've learned from life
is freely giving parts of yourself to everyone
and hoping they share back
leaves you lost,
broken,
and scared to trust.
not everyone shares equally
and you will find yourself withering away,
until you can no longer feel anything.
you become nothing but an empty shell of who you were before.
yet people will still demand your light,
your support,
and your love.
if it is not given they get angry,
calling you "cold" or "heartless."
and you will believe them.
because at the end of it all you still care,
even after losing yourself.

Always the chooser, never the chosen
Tripping in chaos, it's left me broken
Hollowed bones and scattered mind
oh, but the way you see me, it's divine.

I'd love to be the one you love.
Casting prayers, can you hear me up above?
To God, to the cosmos, to any of the powers that be...
I hope you're the one meant for me.

No one can see as me
I cannot see as they
An object, an event can hold multiple gaze
It presents one way to me, another way to you
But which is this ever holy truth?

I guess that depends
Which color of truth is perceived
by you
by me

For I see like me
and you see like you
But, which perception is the truest truth?

Your toy of choice is matches,
claiming to have mastered fire's passion, to control heat's destruction
Put gasoline to a flame, watch as it dances higher, higher
Tendrils of smoke whispering as they rise, high above the pyre
Naive child, thinking fire alone can chase out darkness
Embers may shine,
but they burn, consume themselves, lost in passion
Destined to flicker out, and yield once more to blackness
Ashes to ashes

Words soft as drizzle rain
But eyes betray, awash in pain
Smile quivering, like wind stirred leaves
A story, a mystery so dark so deep,
Both peace and fury,
Reminisce the sea

Go ahead and leave.
Take my heart...anything else you need?
Mama brought me up gracious, Trauma's made me kind.
Truly honey, I'll be alright.
This ain't my first time.

Not all that glitters is gold, or so I've been told.
So crown me the fool because I thought you were more than golden.
I believed your love was sent straight from God,
I sipped sweet nothings like divine nectar, and lord did I drink.

Drunk on your love, addicted, diagnosed lovesickness.
I loved you more than all the gold in the world,
You were my God given Angel.
You were love, you were my light,
To me you were more than divine.

But not all that glitters is gold,
and overtime the illusion began to fade.
Our love was nothing but a tragic story,
a cautionary tale, I might be Juliet but you weren't Romeo.

Your nectar was just arsenic dressed with lace,
Lies disguised as sweet nothings,
Daily delivery straight to my face.
Call me lovesick, call me crazy.
I never noticed your indiscretions,
guess my vision was too hazy.

The truth lies somewhere within the lies,
and the truth is,
you were never just mine.

How did we get this far?
Seems like everyone has lost their hearts,
Demons and scars tearing us apart at the seams.
Empathy's a newly made ghost town.
Sympathy on the brink of running extinct.
This isn’t how it used to be.
At least,
this isn’t how it used to seem.

I still remember the world at sixteen.
When cars went fast,
music was played on blast,
and the wind whipped through my hair.
We were tangled messes but didn’t care.
The night lights felt brighter,
Our worries felt lighter,
And the outside world didn’t look so broken down.

I remember the world at eighteen,
When all we had was optimism, and a dream.
I can see that last classroom with all my friends,
Smiling until the bell sounded, and class fizzled to an end.
We took our party out to the parking lot that day,
We smiled then,
We laughed a lot.

I’m twenty-one now and don’t laugh as much.
Its only been three years,
but I feel out of touch.
This world already weighing heavily on my heart.
Am I doing it right this growing up part?
No one seems to know,
we're all just taking a shot in the dark.

So I hold onto the feeling of sixteen,
the feeling of being free.
I hold onto the feeling of eighteen,
when the world seemed to fit into the palm of my hand.
Life seemed so much brighter,
so much kinder back then.

A drink will numb all that pain,
Shout the others of my age.
Go on, grab a claw, let's get wasted!
Alcohol is the best distraction for inner self-hatred.

Fake pleasantries are exchanged upon entering the door,
and drinks find hands before wandering the floor.
All actions taken seem inherently fake, this is the part I can't help but hate.
Everyone buzzed off claws, tequila, and beer,
I don't know why I even come here.

This isn't tag, the drink in your hand isn't home base,
having a buzz doesn't make you safe.
The can of claw can't banish demons, it's not a magical aluminum wand
They're only momentarily paused.
When you wake they'll be there once more,
and yet again you'll crave a drunken dance floor.
"the best way to deal is to drink beer, and that a fact" mumbles a far  gone Chad.

Maybe I'm cynical, I could be far from right
But I've found that putting a drink in my hand
Only hurts me more in the end.

to be honest, i've never known exactly why
my self-esteem has never been very high.
no matter how hard i seem to try,
failure ebbs and flows in my life, predictable
just like a tide.

lately failure seems to have quickened it's pace
and i can't say i've handled it with grace
i walk around, with my smile mask plastered on my face
hoping no one sees just how badly i feel out of place
this tsunami of failure, and self hate
is one i cannot seem to shake.

my inner critic is putting in more hours than the traditional nine to five.
i don't even know if what i'm feeling classes me as still alive
i feel as though i've become a zombie, freshly crawled from the grave.
just mumbling, and stumbling around
trying to find self-esteem without falling down.

What would the world be,
If we all dreamed as though we were 17?
As though we were still standing on the precipice of old and new.
What if we acted the way we did,
when the world seemed kinder?
It seems far gone are the days of budding fingertip worlds,
whose magic enhanced freedom's dance across our hands.

I long for the years of uncomplicated understandings,
when all problems were bipartisan,
and solutions seemed so simply reached.

How would the world seem,
if we never suckled from limitations ****?
How different would this world be,
if we had learned to embrace change with open arms,
and one another with open hearts?

At times this world seems more than blind
When all we are allowed to see is violence mixed in with strife
The world around becomes dulled and dark
And seems as though
We are overrun with malevolent persons
Our pasts haunted, Our presents uncertain
And something is seemingly always lurking
This world has simply become much to bare

But, there are those who truly care
They lend a shoulder, share in the load
Because as they well know
Together we accomplish much more than doing it alone.

Just as it's sung in every song,
and told in stories, who's tellers are long gone
There one thing that can vanquish this dark
and that is kindness shone from the heart

So this extends my challenge to you
That even as this world is about to break,
You pause and think before spreading weeds of hate.
Seize that moment, Use this time
To shine your light, and be the kind.

Lately I've found myself stuck inside a daydream
An intricate web of spun storylines
A million things to overthink
My thoughts ebb and flow like the tide
A welcome relief from mundane life

Oh, to be the tide!
Moved only by sun and moons delight,
to swell and fall by gravity's might.
Constant and predictable and yet,
a result of raw cosmic power.

truth is nothing is made to stay
clouds appear and ruin the sunniest of days
when you see all skies turn to gray
and nothing feels the same
remember.

through all history only one thing truly remained
the only true constant in this life is change.

sticks and stones may break bones
and words
they can break even the strongest of souls
my advice? be a duck.
show the world your delicate plumage
and
as water beads off the ducks back
so shall the opinions of those
who can only ever quack.

You admit you loved her
But not the way you love me
That I’m the only one
I fit into your picture perfect fantasy
But
If all that was true
Baby why does it feel
As though
I’m only loved by half of you?

I feel at home within a shadow clouds gloom
The ambiance matches my inner mood
Overcast days challenge the worlds rapid pace
And slows it down
So I feel less out of place

Broken pieces mirror empty bottles
My faith in you begins to wobble
Gasping for air
Drowning on sorrow
I fear the consequences come tomorrow
Weary heads lay to rest
You and me in separate beds
Visions dancing in my head
Fill my breaking heart with dread
You hold her, kiss her, pull her close
And leave me lonely
Fornent your ghost

at times I find myself buried
struggling under the weight of past mistakes
crushed by others past wrongs
tear soaked earth prompting
roots to grow
grounding me in humble bedrock

at times I find myself illuminated
blinded by flashing lights of hope
glowing underneath the suns loving warmth
leaves spreading and turning towards the light of hope

at times I find myself overwatered with praise
and at other times I find myself dehydrated of understanding

but despite it all I continue to bloom

the sun shines, granting the world its soft warmth
songbirds greet this gift with notes of love
buzzards coast on warm air currents, circling those below
squirrels dance across tree branches on valiant quests for acorns
and here I am
sitting.
waiting.
wishing.
as the world around me changes
these things that have been the same for ages
continue never changing

I've been sleeping alone
Since you left months ago
Thought I went through the stages
Carefully measured
Robotic, logic
Foolproof ways to process
No stranger to heartbreak
I'm familiar with its ache
But this one has proven hard to shake

Maybe I am naïve,
Cuz frankly I still believe,
Pulling petals shows you inside someone’s heart,
Wishes should be thrown into fountains and cast upon stars,
And true love isn’t just for fairytales.

when the days seem to bleed together
like sharpie through the back of a page
when thoughts and sky only seem gray
when there is only pressure
I write

oh to be compared to a beautiful rose
a dainty daisy
a bright sunflower
oh to be captivating
innocent
optimistic
to bloom brightly
if only for a short while

why a wolf in sheep's clothing?
why not a sheep in wolf's clothing?
but better yet, why can't sheep just be sheep?
and why won't wolves just be wolves?

it is said that if you wish upon a star
        the wish is sure to come true
but judging by the amount of wishes
        I have thrown to the stars
i'm starting to think they haven't a clue
maybe i've been wishing upon the evening plane?
my oh my, wouldn't that be strange.