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s.

you are the sun
warming my face
while i sit precariously
on the edge of some
far away tall place. 
and you are the
smell of rain in summer
musky and sweet and calm. 
you are a house - built with 
strong bones and a kitchen
that smells inevitably 
like coffee and warmth.
you are blue and green
and gray like the sea.
soothing and beautiful,
filled with mystery, still. 
you are laughter and safety,
a joke poised on pursed lips
and light so bright
the sun is only a dark smudge.
you are are music
and dancing
spinning in time with mother earth;
melodies that i hope
i hear forever. 
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bitter apples.

The things they say will heal you,
sometimes they only kill you.
They’ll give you a rainbow dream,
with letters and numbers and
secret meanings.
They’ll take everything you own,
just so you can keep on keeping on.
No, no. Don’t let them take you.
Don’t go willingly into their dark night.
You are more than their
bottom, bottom line.
You should have more time;
don’t let them take that from you.
It’s degree versus autonomy,
in a battle to the death.
Be free, sweet soul, be free
Don’t eat the fruit from bitter apples.

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We’re Only Human

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We screw up. We make mistakes. We are flawed beyond recognition. We’ve got scars on the outside, the inside, and in between. We look in the mirror and grimace at our reflection because we don’t like where we’ve been or where we’re going and we never realize that we’re only human. We place blame like magic candles on a birthday cake. We demand outright that we be treated as humans, as people, as individuals. We proclaim our own humanity like the second coming. “I’m only human” we say. Over. And over. And over. And over. Yet, the irony is that for as much as we demand and proclaim and repeat, we have no problem denying the humanity of another individual. We will condemn the criminal, we will hate the illegal immigrant, and we will deny the right to a human mistake, a human error, to anyone who we do not deem a suitable human being. The homeless, the addicted, the broken, the plagued, the suicides-to-be, the divorcees, the hurt, the “white trash,” the “niggers,” the gangbangers – we’re all human. We are ALL allowed to make mistakes. 

Let the small things stay small. Let the big things be big. Befriend the unfriendly. Give hope to the hopeless. Be a voice for the mute. Stand tall for those who cannot stand at all. 

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You. Are. Not. Alone.

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Everybody has a story. Something good, something bad. That one thing, or many things, that made them who they are. As human beings it is so very easy to forget that we are not alone. It’s easy to feel like we’re stuck fighting battles alone. When you’re alone in the shower feeling like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, it’s easy to forget that there is someone else out there, crying their eyes out in the shower too. We put on our brave faces for the world and we go out there and we tell them that we’re okay and we’re fine and really, we aren’t. We are broken and damaged and hurt and scared and lots of other ugly things that we can’t ever imagine sharing with the rest of the world. And then we feel alone because we’ve created this elephant – society has created this massive elephant – where you aren’t allowed to feel anything other than happiness. You’re supposed to be happy and carefree and smart and perfect 100% of the time and that’s complete and utter bullshit. We are people and we have feelings! It’s okay to have feelings. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be angry. It is okay to be human. But we forget that. We have stories, bad and good, all of us do. We’re human beings. And we are not alone. 

You, beautiful person, are not alone.