the word people means different things to all of us
people.
some feel comfort in that word.
a sense of belonging,
the pea in the all encompassing pod
comfortable and safe in the mass of  cooing voices.

i and many others
can fear the word and all its venom,
all its horrible possibilities.
the mass
the populous
the horrible, bigger than life tsunami of
faces, voices, opinions and expectations.
your possible potential
owed to everyone
by the time you have the nerve to be born.

The weight of a million plus eyes is crippling.
stepping out the door takes as much courage
as putting on the mask of everything’s alright.
laughing with the grinning face of the
people.

we are ****** froward into the fray,
the gauntlet of each other.
given rules of proper behavior
but never the rules of humanity or compassion.
drilled with the multiplication and proper verse
but left to our own childhood devices on
how to treat each other.

people
and their million different ways to maim you beyond repair
a knife for every
old scar and tough tissue
hurts left dormant years ago
that they can’t wait to find and rip open.

that fading flickering deep down hope,
held between frozen hands
blocking it from the hard wind.
well that small little hope for humanity
for people
isn't looking so good
not really keeping back the dark
like it used to.