Hi.

I am here.

But I am sort of not.

Also.

I am in a place

Where I am not exactly worrying

About meter and rhyme

Form

Even plagiarism.

You know.

The unconcious kind.

I am HERE.

I am NOW.

I am BEING.

But I am still lost.

I am still searching.

I am still...

Crying...

On the inside.

Not on the outside though.

That protective shell

it's important

People think I'm strong

I am what people think

Right?

Hey.

Hi.

I am here.

I want to listen to you.

I want to hear your story.

Honestly...

I want to love you.

Because I have so much love to give...

All the love I've withheld...

From myself...

He awoke from his dream with a small jolt. The room was completely dark, thanks to the latest automatic window shades that blocked out the sun’s noonday light and heat. Rolling over, he gently climbed over the two young beautiful ladies lying naked in his bed and padded to the bathroom. His reflection was the same: a perfectly squared jaw, dark hair that was thick at his temples with the latest hairstyle, clear and glowing complexion, muscle that rippled from the excrutiating training he put himself through, and an overall aura of mystery and arrogant confidence. He was perfect.

He looked up at the live feed camera pointed down at him, and he languidly stretched to show off his body in a way he knew the audience would enjoy. He finished up and returned to the bedroom where the two women were already awake, opening the window shades to the beautiful penthouse view. They purred their good mornings as they scavenged for their clothes to get dressed, winking and waving at the live feed cameras pointed directly at the massive bed. “That’s right,” he thought to himself, “Get your ten seconds of fame over with.”

With them out of the way, he ordered room service. All his favorite foods were prepared by the best chefs and finest ingredients, which he gorged himself with until his stomach began to protrude. Finished, he took the Ipecac pill handed to him and threw up the entire feast. It would be shameful if his body lost its perfect shape and size. He then went to the pristine gym where he met his personal trainers, one was the most popular super model to spot him and a celebrity instructor he hired just yesterday. But the routine isn’t really meant to train him as he usually would. He sneaked a wink at one of the dozens of live feed cameras as he flexed and lifted, showing off his frame and excellent physical health.

He began his day with the first of many outfits tailor made by the greatest desginers with fashions not even revealed to the public, yet. He attended as a guest celebrity to conferences and charity events. All of which were hand-picked by his agents to give the right influence to the right people. He then would spend the entire evening at multiple parties at the most expensive and popular venues. He even, as a joke, crashed a couple’s wedding where with the combination of the paparazzi and news coverage, made the previously unknown couple a hot item in the news for a solid week.

Coming home, he invited the two new women he met at... well, it didn’t really matter where he met them at. He treated them all the same, because they were all after the same thing. He excused himself from them as they began doing unseamly things together for his and the audience’s enjoyment, “I just need to make a phone call.” He went back downstairs, but instead of going to the sitting room, he turned towards the basement and placed his hand on the palm scanner. The vault-like door opened with a heavy swing, showing a steep metal staircase.

Walking down, he thought to himself, “I am the greatest of them all. I have everything. But I know the truth. I know what they’re doing.” He came to the bottom of the staircase where he could already hear the clanging and screaming behind the next door, “I see what the audience is not allowed to see.” Placing his hand on the heavy handle, he heaved open the door. Screaming and howling filled the air as dozens as dozens of cages lined against the walls were shaken and rocked with the unholy spawns within them.

A woman, once voluptuous, now crouched with her sagging skin clinging to her skeletal frame. A man, once having the most beautiful smile, gnawed at the metal bars with his toothless mouth. Skin once glowing and plump was chapped and bleeding. Hair once as smooth as silk was matted and torn. Nails that were adorned with jewels were cracked and split. All that once was the most perfect beauty was now a unsightly heap of maniacal flesh that was no longer even human.

The man crouched down and looked into the eyes of the most recent addition. A young man not two years older than him, but was already emaciated and had eaten his own tongue out of starvation. “I know the truth,” he told him, “I am the greatest that ever was. I am the pinnacle and the highest tier. But one day, there will be another. There always is. Then I will be down here with all of you.” The skeletal frame let out a guttural moan and began chewing on his fingers. The man continued, “Tell me... what would you do to make sure you could never be replaced?”

You painted me in

thick black lines

and taught me how to walk

back and forth between them

You let them dull the color

that existed in the deepest part of me

Bright yellows and vibrant blues

transforming into a dull gray

You told me that standing out

is the worst thing to do in this world

Placed a mold around my heart

and taught me values the masses agreed to

“DO NOT STAND OUT.”

My vulnerability could wreak havoc

an uprising of reality that could unsettle the sheep

I struck my wrists and let the colors bleed

then cried out,

“STOP SHAPING ME!”

The dull gray began to change inside

my body, growing and pulsing with life

The vibrant colors were back,

all shades of the rainbow flowing out

My eyes, for the first time, could see.

I thought I hated all mortals.

In my mind they were foolish creatures, weak and insufferable, ugly and greedy, pathetic and argumentative. They were the race bearing a lack of compliance or acceptance for another's differences. Seeing the perspective or point of view of a person standing right next to them was a feat that didn't come naturally and a skill far too few achieved. They were quick to wage war, but quicker to beg for their meaningless lives.

Such a being was too easy to kill, off a whim.

I stopped trying to understand mortals long ago, so on a particular fateful day, I didn't question why an infant mortal was left alone in a dessert, unmonitored and defenseless.

Its wailings were faint. Had I not been a superior race, I would have flown past it without realizing. Instead, off a whim, I descended towards it.

I remember the wailing stopped once my claw reached the sand. I had never seen one that small before. My wings curled around the creature - call it predatorial instinct. The sunlight cast a faint red shadow through the thin of my wings and against their curious little eyes. Its sun-tanned hand stretched away from its strangled blanket and out for me; an empty threat, one I chose to ignore.

I stooped down to its level and the first thing it decided to do was reach for my hair, pulling the red strands in tiny bunches - as I said before, 'quick to wage war'. I grabbed it by the wrist and raised it up high for a better display. It fainted. On another whim I decided to bring it back with me.

I thought once it reached my den I'd want it dead, but it intrigued me with its strange behaviour, making bubbly scream-noises anytime it saw something new. I fed it and decided to keep it around. It wasn't like the other mortals I hated so much, this one possessed a certain light.

It gave me a thought.

What if I nurtured this light? What if I grew it in a way that could improve the species from within?

So I did. I became a sort of mother, or father perhaps - I forgot what they were called.

It grew fairly quickly and I grew used to its company. So used to it, in fact, that I found myself preoccupied with needless thoughts on its safety, its wellbeing, and its joy. I grew fond of its expressions when I took it for a fly. I had to protect its bubble-scream, and its gentle, constant, expression changes. I had to give it more reasons to latch its arms around me. I had to make sure it wouldn't wail and leak through the eyes in that awful way mortals do.

I paid attention to the many, many things that could cause its demise. Since falling over could cause it to bleed, anything greater than that was a threat. I hated this. This threat-list made me do crazy things; like take the full force of an attack to shield it from harms way, or dive into a lake that naturally seeps my energy to prevent it from drowning, or beg...

beg other mortals to spare its targetted, fleeting life in exchange for the immortality of mine.

Breakfast in bed

74 degrees and a light breeze

Hugging someone you miss

A hot drink on a cold day

A cold drink on a hot day

When the sun comes out after a storm

Sweets

Gentleness

Bubble baths

Cartoons

Playfulness

Games

The smell of a new book

The loved wear of an old one

The sparkle in a stranger’s eye

The fire in our heart that never dies

All the dreams we had as kids

All the truth that makes us strong

and choosing to be free of hate

Silly faces in the mirror

Well-believed self-affirmations

Determination

Happiness.

Fulfillment.

Mercy.

Is this how it’s supposed to feel?

Nine months after breaking up,

And still you’re the only person who can calm me with a smile and a joke.

We talk, every single day, you know more about me than any other person, and without you I feel adrift.

Logically, I know, it was for the best.

Hell, I thought of ending it all myself.

So tell me why, then, I’m laying here in bed, wrapped up in thoughts of you and missing your skin pressed to mine. Why, do I miss you more than anything, and why am I not doing a damn thing about it?

We have very different ideas about what the future should look like. I see myself travelling the world, creating films, and saving animals when I can. Loving someone more than myself, planning a fall wedding, having kids and teaching them to surf and respect the world as I pick sunflowers from my garden before dinner. I want freedom, I want love, and I want peace.

You want to advance in your career, and have no desire to stay in a long term relationship any time soon. You don’t believe in marriage, and kids are possibly your biggest deal breaker. You want to be angry with yourself, and the world, and at me when I try to show you how much I care.

On paper we are absolutely terrible for each other. So why, can’t I stop loving you?

I won’t compromise on my vision.

And neither will you.

I don’t know if we’ll ever meet in the middle, or if those short 9 months together was all we’ll ever have. I don’t know how, after seeing other people, after sharing someone else’s bed, finding someone who wants what I do, I don’t know how I’m not over you. I did what I was supposed to do, it’s worked every time before.

But here I am, writing about you, once again caught in the throes, of not knowing.

DEEPLY PAINFUL.

EMOTIONALLY TRYING.

PITY EVOKING.

RESONATING FEELINGS

ESCAPING SLOWLY.

SYPMTOMS VARYING.

SIGNIFICANTLY WIDESPREAD.

INVASIVE THOUGHTS

OCCASIONALLY FLEETING,

NEVER DISSIPATING.

What is my purpose? A question many have asked themselves. Yet very few have found the true answer. On the other hand there are people like me who just go on with their lives, letting the days drift away immersed in their own solitude. I'm a person who always hid behind the label of a "loner" believing that I preferred my own company. Pleased to have all that time to myself never letting anyone in, but relishing in my peaceful silence. Choosing to remain inside and standing on the sidelines rather than going out and enjoying myself. Just because my isolation was much more safer than exposing my real self to the world.

Binging on the net and spending hours on social media was so much easier than just talking to the person sitting beside me. Running after my own selfish desires was less burdening than to trust someone else with my little secrets. Always afraid they might jugde me. Asking others opinion was not as tough as making my own decisions. Thus I remained blinded through my college years even into university.

Now that I am on the verge of a new phase in my life, my eyes have finally opened and I've starting questioning all those wrong convictions. Wondering not about the what ifs but about how I might rectify my mistakes to build a new confident and enlightened person. This is my first step towards that goal by accepting my faults. At the same time taking small steps towards a new and better life.