We are Gods With Our Senses

we are gods with our senses

judging what 

looksgood feelsgood isgood 

from what does and is not

all roads leading to evolution

however winding they seem

we have every right to grow however the sun awakens us

and find a water source even in the hardest rock

I have stumbled on many rocks

in some bitter moments

I have known the bite of a thousand dirty hands on my tongue,

silencing where they touched

touching where I hid

forgetting to feel the pleasant things

that hadn't left yet

still feeling the invasions

that were long gone

this morning I looked through blinds

and in that half-inch second,

the whole world was one blue sky

I don't have a point if you're waiting

this is a poem about the way we censor our joy

& our lives together

but I’m stumbling

the lines between brilliant and distasteful overlap

we are that flavor

I know it's a cliché but I don't love anyone as much

as those willing to cut me up

those able to say 

they see through the façade

and love me anyway

I don't have a point if you're waiting

I think we should give love lost a proper burial

burn it like an offering of gratitude, 

to any eyes searching the sky for hope

Yes, Virginia, connections are tenable

and yet tentative in every moment

she asked me, calm as you like,

If I remembered when we were dinosaurs together

I pulled her into myself

and split my ribcage to nestle her in

I discovered in her midnight fingertips-we are all the fingers of the same god's hands

I discovered we are all

remembering how to live for the first time.

and yet again in every moment

and I never wrote a poem as true

as the scream I gave with my first breath

so, if life's worth comes from honest pain,

I will accept nothing less