but i cannot be
for i am not free
i am shackled
by people's expectations, the responsibility
to make them happy
to make them feel not hurt
even in times when i feel like dirt.
Even when i'm down,
i cannot be me
because, only as dirt can i help them grow
to help them heal
to make them feel loved and appreciated
for their need for validation to be constantly satiated
only as dirt, can i help them bloom
to be the person they need to be.
Son. Lover. Brother. Friend.
i am always another
but i am never me.

i stand in the bustling enviroment.
surrounded by people whoes stroies ive never heard,
never will hear.
rolling wheels and harsh voices fill the filtered air.
hushing mothers, and their crying children.
i stand in an airport, surrounded by crowds ive never known.
wishing to hear a simple story, a little tale.
to know the place i stand

i long to feel you.
not sexually, but i long to feel your chest rise and fall aganist my back
i long to feel your eyes captivate mine
i long to feel your hands grasp mine
i long for you in the most innocent of ways
i long for the late night talks
and the drowsy kisses
i long for the way you say my name in the morning
i long for you, the way you long for me.

Perhaps that's the point of it all,
the mate of the soul,
they cannot be two feet down
and smothered in endless
concrete, but instead they
must be made of words untrue,
a lapse of perfect fiction,
for when they come to flesh
and blood, your eyes can't
seem to breathe and your
heart leaps and leaps.