I love people…
Do not mistake me; people piss me off.
But I also have a deep love for them.
For their simplicities and complexities.
I find myself falling so in love with how incredible humans can be.
Enamored with a smile…
blown away by the depth of someone’s eyes.
I fall in love with how people are when they think no one is looking.
I lose my breath over the weight of humanity resting on a person’s shoulders.
blown away by the depth of someone’s eyes.
I fall in love with how people are when they think no one is looking.
I lose my breath over the weight of humanity resting on a person’s shoulders.
I am overwhelmed by the depth of emotions people pull out of me, even when it is unseen.
It is not all roses and sunshine.
I have felt the cruelty of hatred, both thrown at me, and grown from within me.
I have struggled with self-doubt, feeling disconnected, and shame.
Feeling as if I will never belong, never be loved, in the way that I feel love.
That I am cellophane, meant to be discarded.
I have felt the cruelty of hatred, both thrown at me, and grown from within me.
I have struggled with self-doubt, feeling disconnected, and shame.
Feeling as if I will never belong, never be loved, in the way that I feel love.
That I am cellophane, meant to be discarded.
This incredibly human experience lends its difficulties to me.
And while I find it rude that it did not ask,
I wouldn’t change the experience.I wish I could say I would, but I would be too paranoid about screwing something up.
So, I won’t.
I won’t change my struggle with my humanity,
nor my struggle with connection.
And while I find it rude that it did not ask,
I wouldn’t change the experience.I wish I could say I would, but I would be too paranoid about screwing something up.
So, I won’t.
I won’t change my struggle with my humanity,
nor my struggle with connection.
I shant do it.
I refuse.
Because to all in this world, good and bad, I love you all.
And while you may hate my existence, wish me dead.
Or know nothing of it. Know nothing of who I am.
Or maybe you do.
Maybe you know me in some capacity.
A romantic poet.
A handsome beaut.
A handsome beaut.
A harlot face.
A friend.
An ex.
A lover.
A fighter.
A coward.
An expert.
A child.
A loser.
A friend.
An ex.
A lover.
A fighter.
A coward.
An expert.
A child.
A loser.
I may be worthless or priceless.
You may fear me. Hate me.
Call for my death.
You may fear me. Hate me.
Call for my death.
In the end, it doesn’t matter what I am, or who I am.
Not to you,
and especially not to me.
Not to you,
and especially not to me.
Nor does it matter who you are, or what you are.
No,
what matters is that you are loved.
For all the drudgery, and shining bits of this universe.
We are made for something more.
Love, romance, respect, fear, understanding,
hope…oh hope…
My love for you is as vast as hope,
brittle, scarred, and tired.
It is as fed as my fears,
skittish but still there.
brittle, scarred, and tired.
It is as fed as my fears,
skittish but still there.
I love people.This is my purpose.
This is my deepest truth.
I love you, all of you, though I do not know you.
This, my well-guarded secret.
