Proud

What if there is no god? What if we must only answer to one another? Would it change the way we treat each other? If we could no longer hide behind a Man whom can not voice his opinion, would we have the courage to look each other in the eye and explain the reason behind our decisions? If god gave us all the power of will, would he be proud of how we wield it?

Small

We are so small. To believe other wise is silly. Whether 7' or 3' does not matter. It is insignificant. Yet that does not stop us. Logic can not change our hearts. It is hard not to believe in magic when you weigh the odds. In all the vastness of existence, you are there. Nothing in this universe can repeat that simple fact. You are there. Every smell, sight, touch, thought. They are yours and yours alone. Yes, we are small. But that does not keep us from feeling like giants. From knowing we are infinite. From being invincible. Yes, we are small. But we can create worlds. Change the heavens. Dream. I have learned that there is always a bigger picture. Though we may not be seen when viewed from afar. I dare the gods to stop us from trying.

Endure

My heart weighs heavy. A reminder of it's broken existence with every step. It's shards tear at my insides. My rib cage now the casing of a once valuable relic. Over worked and tired it pounds. Struggling to keep these legs strong. Strong under the pressure of such sadness. No rest. No break. For in these words lie deception. There is no end to the path untraveled. So my heavy heart utters but one line of reason. Softly spoken yet thunderous with intention. Endure.

Addiction

I hate you. You are mind altering and infuriating, deceitful and cruel. You are selfish and loathsome. You make me foolish and usurp the logic from my actions. You don't care who you effect or harm and you drive me insane. I can't clean you from my skin and though I scrub I still feel you weight pressing down, down through to my core. I know all this and yet I lie. Demand the bits I dream are good and pretend our dance heals all wounds. You have many mistresses and many names but only one that gives you strength. My Addiction.

Gems

I learned a long time ago that you can not weigh your self worth against another. When you look around, you see such diversity. Friends sharing similarities but never truly being similar. Sharp witted janitors and insensitive billionaires. Smart, dumb, fat, skinny, rich or poor it cannot allude to the rest of our repertoire. We all have our array of facets. What we must not forget is that these facets are what makes us gems.

Beautiful

What do you see when I speak of beauty? Fair skin and curvaceous roads your fingers long to travel? Or rather long views over deep wonders full of color? I think of none of these. I see opposition. I see struggle. An insatiable appetite for defiance against a single order. Succumb. When I think of beauty I think of a subtle smile through cold pain with wild fire leaping from fixed eyes. This is truly beautiful to me. For through this image of the human spirit your vistas and vixens were won, and in the pale comparisons you see rays of the one truly beautiful thing. Freedom.

See

If I could learn only one skill, I would wish it to be the ability to accurately observe. To look, and truly see. So that I could learn why not to judge. So I could my loved ones from being deceived. So that I could not deceive myself. So that I would never miss the beauty in life. But most of all, so that I could see how to teach another, and we could then finally see each other.