A turned head to hide from your eyes,
the mistakes I am about to make.
Our inability to avoid the hurt
that drags it's way closer
with the inevitability
of rising suns
and incoming tides
is a mere demonstration
of our humanity.
And yet our very hope
defines us as human.
The positivity despite the tearing pain
that darkens to vulnerability
deepening chasms in our self esteem,
leaving us unable
to connect on any level
until we are hollowed out,
a mere vessel
of crystalised deceit
and lies,
a sharp statue of cynicism .
And then another one comes along.
And we shatter.
And the circus starts again