the human body
and mind is reflex unless
told other by you

I see
the roses
in you, the
delicate
petals of
of being
human,
the thorns
of us have
broken
the chains,
our feathers
glide when
darkness
once
wished
to down
the soar
of our
wings,
feathers
glide from
loud howls,
floating
up to the
place we
call as
truth.

it is one thing
to follow her into the dark

it is another thing
to borrow her fragmented words
and hold her in one hand
and a scale in another
and call it justice

but, by God
(whichever one you’d like to cite today
the kind one, the cruel one, and so on),

it is a whole different thing
to seize her by the neck
and rip the words from her throat
and twist them into cotton *****
and dip them into holy water
and force them back into her mouth
until she can no longer breathe
and no longer live and no longer exist
without drowning in a sense of helplessness
because we, the people, will always remember exactly how
you took your greed and shoved it into her mouth
and down her throat, until you stifled the cries of
‘my body, my choice’ with a book of myths and a man’s voice
weren’t you supposed to be our voice?
what was this all for? was the money so loud that
you could not hear the echoes of pro-choice?
our rage—will it be worth those thirty silver coins?

i see you human
you are beautiful
throughout time

What makes us human?
Is it the never ending barrage of emotions?
The communities we have
The families we grow
The lives we live

We have enslaved
And have fought wars
We have built cities
And have torn people down to their cores

We have tamed beasts
And have left them homeless
And while we feast
We leave many hopeless

Perhaps it's time we take a step back
And realize that maybe
What makes us human
Is the compassion we lack

i am a god that created the human
i am the human that the god created
but the god wants to be human
and the human wants to be the god
and it's a back and forth
the discontent
the want for more, for land and riches
for wealth larger than seas
and the need for simplicity,
to be held and to be loved.

It's okay to lie down underneath your blank ceiling
Until twelve, one, two and counting...
Cutting your skin to pieces,
Eating your unfavorite chocolate Reese's,

Until your body fall into sleeping,
Mixing old dreams about running away
From a cult or an unknown creature
From someone you know or a foreign soldier.

It's okay to make mistakes as you run
It's okay, as they say, "You're only human. "
How you talk and swear too much through our thread
How you ignored and made every part of them bleed
How you call your every episode special
How your own mess and theirs wrestle

Until you open your eyes to see the same ceiling,
Still blank but with a hint of late morning blaze.
Time to repeat the same heat without healing
I apologize to you, one from the doorcrack who gazed.