This is a contract!!
Why won’t you give me my end of the bargain?
Make me feel loved, make me feel beautiful.
To you, what am I but a distraction from your stress?

This is a contract!!
Why did you even sign it?
Give me your time, give me your concern.
To you, what am I but a friend?

This is a contract!!
Why won’t you fulfill it?
Offer me your care, offer me your words.
To me, you are wonderful.

How I long to give in to the mortal pleasures of the flesh,
Yet lusting for the release of the physical world I exist,
Paradoxically halted by my own humanity.

Am I this name, this face, this soul?
Is this body inseparable from me?
I look at my digits and exalt in their beauty, these vessels which carry me through life.

How I wish to ascend to the heights of consciousness,
Yet praying for the escape from this eternal solitude,
Perpetually stunted by my own humanness.

Am I this heart, this blood, this mind?
Are those people inseparable from me?
I look at their digits and exalt in their beauty, those vessels which carry us through life.

How fleeting, how trivial, how small everything is.
How permanent, how significant, how immense everything is to me.

i feel nothing, but in the best way.

the absence of artificial asinine archaic and endlessly echoing internal emotions.

all is well here, all is well here.

i feel nothing; no worry.

this peaceful presence propagating powerful pleasantries within a quiet mind.

all is well here, all is well here.

i feel nothing; no longing.

the first fantastical hiatus from forceful fateful phantoms gripping at the heart.

i feel nothing; no anger.

this incredible introspective break with inimical irate iterations intruding upon this space.

all is well here, all is well here.

i feel nothing, but in the best way.

I balance myself
   so delicately
on haves and have-nots.

"What do I have that you do not?"
      this gives me life; purpose.
I have done what you lack.

"What have you done that I have not?"
       and suddenly the world falls beneath my feet.
I am not so good as you anymore.

I balance myself
   so delicately
on haves and have-nots.

O Lord, my God
Would you consecrate my lungs such that the air I breathe be holy?
O Lord, my Savior
May each shuddering breath be yours; Divine.

O Lord, my God
Would you consecrate my throat such that the water I drink be wine?
O Lord, my Protector
May each desperate swallow be yours; Heaven.

O Lord, my God
Would you consecrate my palms such that the ones I touch be angels?
O Lord, my Guide
May each careful stroke be yours; Blessed.

O Lord, my God
Would you consecrate my soul such that my deeds be pure?
O Lord, my Shepherd
May each deliberate act be yours; Transcendent.

Do you mind that I might seek you out?
I am not certain what this feeling is, this glowing fire that I have lit inside of myself.
Sometimes I hope that it might consume me entirely.
Yet I strike the match such that it burns just enough to pleasantly warm my thoughts.

Do you mind that I might think of you?
I am not certain why this feeling is, this divine light which I myself have cast upon you.
Sometimes I hope that it might fade into nothingness.
Yet I stoke the embers such that they may never turn cold.

Do you mind that I might wonder about you?
I am not certain how this feeling is, this burning sun which sets often and not at all.
Sometimes I hope that it may warm you as it does me.
Yet I stare into the flames such that they begin to fade without my intervention.