I can see myself now,
Shouting "farewell" to this place
And the lonely souls who occupy it;
Floating around in oblivious, liquid states.
I've felt the tug of roots from the trees,
Grasping my ankles, begging me to join them,
But the promise of concrete skies and neon greetings have gnawed their way
Through my skull.
I won't apologize for giving in to my desires,
For broadening my knowledge
And making use of my short existence.
I am not limited
To this simplistic, little rock.

What is this happiness?
Am I to seek out, yearn for, grasp up mere moments?
-or is it a perpetuated state of being?
One for only the rarest and most deserving?

Am I the saboteur of my own making?
Am I the weak-willed wallower
Who falls further faster farther under
Behind and beyond the rarified
Deified reality of some form of happy?

Who CARES?  Jesus, who cares!?
What is all this for anyway?!

We ****.  We fight.  We feast.  We famine.
We rage and ruin the peak of our creations
-we, in harmony, benefit from mass assimilations
While singularly sink in to oblivion.

You say it will never work.
We're too different,
yet you still have feelings for me.
You tell me-
you "hate" me.
I make things too complicated.
I just wish you knew-
I love you too.