all humans think they are the ******* ****
like we think elevated thoughts that trip across moonbeams
drift on clouds laced with estrogen and ******* sunshine
like we steer their course
when in reality
our elevation has nothing to do with the brevity of our infantile thought processes
that we believe are unique and something for others to wonder at
it's been ******* done before
someone already wrote a better poem about it, too.

don't stand on my shoulders and point out all the **** i can't see from down here
things unseen still exist
i'm not a tourist
in a poetic world you created
full of bleeding wrists and antidepressants
******* tell it how it is
don't elaborate
or don't
say anything
at  
all