Categories
Poetry

Raging Humanity

Where do I put the pieces of me

that I do not wish to see?

Where do I put the pieces of others

that cut my gentle flesh

and baste me in the black oil

of smiles and lies?

Are we not all perfect, here?

Are we not all, nice?

Tied in the sweetest bows

of comfort and light

are the stories we tell.

Tied by the jagged boundaries

of our own

raging

humanity.

Open your eyes.

It is time

to wake

up.

Photo by Mat Reding on Pexels.com

Categories
Life

The Absolute Truth

Sometimes

the only words necessary

are:

chocolate

is

good.