Are people simple-mindedly to nonunique?
Should I hate hate?
Or should I just strive not to hate anything at all?
Look at me sideways.
Look at me sideways from across the room,
But only when I am not looking back.
I'm not looking.
I'm not looking back,
So busy always looking down.
When you see me from over there,
When you see me from over there, why do you keep on watching?
What is it you see?
What is it you see when I am all askew?
You take my picture.
I know you take my picture.
I know you take my picture because I feel you cooly steal my breath.
I am between my words.
I am between my smiles.
I am between the smiles of mine when you reach out and catch me bare.
Catch me from across the room.
I feel you catch me when the lights go down.
I remember your breathing.
I remember your breathing like is was my own.
I remember your breathing.
I remember your breathing for it is my own.
Reach out and know my name.
Is it really okay for people to continue to go on living like they have a better idea of what matters than anybody else?
Is it really okay for so many lives to extinguish every day without knowing that they are as important as everyone else?
Is it really okay for us to decide how this world should turn without first coming to terms with who everyone else is?
It hurt, and for awhile I would do it because it hurt so real.
But after awhile it just hurt.
And then I stopped. I stopped and you told me it was just alright.
Until I found out you did it too. And then it hurt you and I and it hurt us together and we loved it for that,
even though I hated it, and even though you hated it,
It was real to us. It was part of us, and we of course were part of it,
But so was everyone everything else, and I slowed you down.
It didn't really mean anything to me after that, it just kind of was.
But there was that other thing. I'd really kind of liked it all along.
In fact I remember liking it way back when.
And it felt good. Of course I liked it because it felt so kind.
Kind of like things used to feel.
Kind of like things just ought to feel..and so I did it for awhile.
I did it because it felt so warm. And it was nice to be warm again.
It was whole to be warm again, wasn't it?
People told me I was pretty neat.
Like a person they had always liked. Pretty neat.
And I was pretty neat to you. You told me I was pretty neat to you.
My words and my style. My voice and my body.
You loved me for all of these things and you told me so.
It felt good to me how you told me so. It felt good to you how you told me so.
I was warm again, hot again, rise again, fall again, you told me so.
I'd hate how you told me so.
And one day you stopped.
My fingers fold soft
around my arms.
My eyes hardly recognize