Rising from the ashes like a phoenix,
Or a fiery **** that won't flush.

I don't think people realize how much I cry.
I cry over people,
I cry over feelings and emotions,
I cry over beautifully crafted films and wonderfully drafted pieces of music,
I cry over poems and long-hand written letters and the realistic qualities human hearts can have.
I cry over a lot stupid things.
I cry a lot, to be honest.
I've probably cried over you, too.

I love to write, write poetry, heck I'm even writing a book that will probably never be published and yet I dream for it.
I love to blare music and dance around in my bedroom even though I know I probably look stupid,
I love to watch movies that scare my mom and sisters, but thrill my father and I,
I love to take unnecessary car rides with my sisters and be goofs while music that is foreign to me pounds through the speakers,
I love to eat a whole pint of ice cream, even when I know it's going to make me so sick, but hey, it's worth it,
I love to lay in bed and night and just let my mind wander into the unknown, strange ideas forming in my head,
I love that I'm weird and quirky, and I love that I have a really weird dorky laugh,
I love that I can be extroverted but hey, I'm also an introvert so that makes me one of those special ambiverts, right?
I love going to concerts and jumping around and being crazy even though that really never happens, and now that I think about it, it only happens at church camp,
I love how I don't really do much, and yet I do everything all at once,
I love that I have dimples, especially because I have two,
I love the feeling of my friends who are all taller than me, just wrapping me up in their arms and hugging me,
I love to watch the sunrise, even if I'm a night owl, and I rarely see it anyways, but heck, it's beautiful and I can love that,
I love finding a new bookstore, the smell of fresh books or the scent of an ancient bound spine,
I love to dance around lazily, even if I probably look stupid, I'm in love with the fact that someone will love that about me one day,
I love to love
and I love to be happy.

But you know,
sometimes I feel so alienated,
so human.  
But all around me are faces that blur together in a line that goes down the same route of feigning whom they really are,
I've been lied to and lied about,
I see the seed of gossip and it's destruction in the form of a short two words,
I see the way the girls all fawn over the same guys, the one who destroy and break who they could be,
I see the way people fight for what they think is love and freedom but they're just pushing themselves down with the lie that their skin color makes them racist and they hate themselves for it,
I hate the way the world tells us to be,
I hate how it laughs in our faces, how all we do is try to please others and then begin to lose ourselves in favor of them.
I hate myself when I too try to be like everyone else,
I hate when I become vain or insecure, how sometimes I don't just love me for me,
I hate how judgmental I get because, hey, she said it so it must be true,
I hate how everyone replies with the same things, thinking their problems are exactly the same and can be solved equally, but they can't because they're not.

I hate this ideal of sameness,
this ideal of equality,
because if we're equal,
than doesn't that make us the same?
And doesn't that make us not us?
It's strange that we fight for everyone to have the same rights,
and yet scream for everyone to be individualistic when we can't even be real ourselves.

We're fighting for and against sameness all at once.
We're individuals,
we're people,
we're dying
and it's all because of sameness.

Where did you go Individuality?
Have you hidden underneath the deepest sea?
Do you float above the highest peak?
Maybe you've left our atmosphere,
reaching for the stars where they twinkle in your light.
But if you're really gone,
than is anyone real anymore?