It is easier [for me]
To say it isn’t in the books for me to find
A savior to fit the finest form
Of all my varying needs.
It is easier [for me]
To see a tree and think of seeds
And sun and rain
And time
And not to think of a snap
Of two fingers
And a magical beginning.
It is easier [for me]
To fall asleep, asking myself
For strength I can’t seem to find inside
Than talking to an obscure illusion
That’s really only air.
It is easier [for me]
To doubt, to question, to search, to guess
To make believe I understand
The ways in which I’m never meant to understand
Than to sit back
And listen to words that do not belong to me.