God’s Perfect Inperfection


So, kid, you think you’re hot shit?

Just because you keep telling yourself your perfect?

That your teachers and peers think you to be a god?

Well let me tell ya somethin’

You’re anything but.

With your shoulders hunched in and

Your eyes cast to the ground

You’ll never amount to more than a shadow

In the real world.

And even though they think you’re God

They’ll never know

That you’re dead inside.

Shattered remnants of yourself

Trying to mimic life.

Broken by the pressure put on you

By your family

Never happy with your achievements

But always expecting more.

Always expecting you to be the best.

But ultimately,

You have only yourself to blame.

For your downfalls and faults

Because you began to believe

Believe that you were God

That you were perfect.

But welcome to the real world,

Kid,

Where you’re killed without a second thought

And you could be living a life of cold remorse

And lonliness

And no one’ll give a shit.

Welcome to the real world,

Where there’s always someone better than you

No matter how hard you work

Or how perfect you are.

There’s always someone better.

Because you’ll be dead inside.

Killed by the pressure

You put on yourself.

To be God.

To be perfect.

So hold your head high, kiddo,

And stand up straight.

‘Cause nine times outta ten,

You’re the only one you got

To tell yourself

That perfection is impossible,

A figment of the human imagination.

So embrace your achievements,

No matter how small

Acknowledge your strengths,

No matter how diminutive

So boy,

Are you ready

For

The real world?

Or will

You be swallowed

Within

Your blasphemous thoughts?

Weapon

He smiles

Despite the fact

That he carries a burden

That breaks him

In body

In mind

In spirit

He laughs

Despite

The hatred

The mockery

The abuse

The burden he carries,

Too large for even the largest of men

Is set on his shoulders

Those of a child

He knows

Despite the masquerades

And the jokes

That he’ll always

Be isolated

Be detested

Be shunned.

But conviction, the enemy of the truth,

Ally to falsity,

Is in every beat of the heart

And every thought of the brain.

He is too blinded by his own lies

To find that the truth has always

Been there

In front of his eyes

That his burden is not his alone

But shared among

The ones who love him

So that he may be shown

That conviction is not always

The strongest weapon

But can be the greatest enemy

And that the truth,

The truth will set him free.

Blind

You say your eyes can see everything and anything

But that’s just crap.

All you can see are your own strengths

And the weaknesses of others

You couldn’t see your own daughter’s humility

Or your own nephew’s determination

Only a failure and a branch member

Nothing more

You couldn’t see her compassion

Only the girl who missed out.

Or his gift of articulation and inspiration

Only a demon.

You were so blinded by your superiority

You couldn’t see your own flaws.

Your hatred

Your intolerance

Your coldness

Only your physical strength

But physical strength only brings you so far,

In this world.

While the sky’s the limit if you have the strength

Of true sight, which you lack.

Name

I hate you and

I love you.

You had given me what I had always wanted,

Something to call my own

A name to match the face

But you betrayed my trust

You took away my name and

Left me with your ill wishes

You see me

But

You don’t know me.

You hear me

But

You can’t understand me.

You judge me

But

You don’t know who I am.

Who are you to say

What I am and

What I am not?

But

You had done something no one else has;

You’ve given me a name.

People recognize me now,

Because of it,

But

I hate it.

And

I hate you too.

Most of all, though

I hate myself.

Because I became

Caught up in

The moment

And the happiness

And the recognition,

I couldn’t see the sneers

Or the laughter.

So now

I’ll smile whenever I see you

To prove

To you

And

To myself

That I am myself,

Not a name,

But a person

Not a thing,

But a living being

I will show that

I don’t need your

Nicknames

Or codenames

Or whatever other names you use

To be

Respected

Recognized

Accepted

I will be myself,

And there’s no name in

The world that can stop

Me.

If You Can’t Laugh and You Can’t Cry Then What’s Left to Live For?

You can never express what you feel.

Can you?

Monster

Freak

Reject

You hear them whisper them behind your back

You can never show it,

But

They hurt you more than any

Sword or bullet could.

You can’t feel that which can be ignored,

So is that you just choose to ignore everything?

Everyone?

Even me?

It hurts, really

To see you like this,

Slowly dieing but never uttering a single complaint,

Not one objection.

But nothing gold can stay.

You can’t just keep your emotions bottled up forever,

So they explode sometimes.

Always anger,

Never happiness or grief.

Always bloodlust,

Never lovelust.

And you tell me that you can’t feel,

But how true is that, really?

Is that you can’t feel or that you won’t?

Impervious or just stubborn?

I don’t think anyone is completely numb to the world,

And you’re no exception.

So live a little,

Love a little,

Laugh a little.

It won’t hurt you.

It won’t hurt me.

So why bother with this façade

If it only causes grief?

After all,

If you can’t laugh

And

You can’t cry

Then what’s left to live for?

A Two-Fold Lie


Show it, the fury of your emotions.

“ I can’t! I can’t! I need this…I need this…”

Why? Why do you need this? This façade?

“It makes me who I am; who people want me to be.”

Is that why they laugh at you behind your back as you fail every time?

“No…no…they don’t mean to be mean…it’s only an accident…nothing more.”

How can you call that harassment? What they’ve done to you?

“It’s only made me stronger in the end.”

Has it? Has it really? Answer me; has suppressing your rage and grief really made you strong?

“Of course it has! It’s the only way I survive…by hiding.”

But are you happy?

“Of course I am.”

Why?

“Because they’re with me; my loved ones.”

But do they love you back?

“Of course they do! Why wouldn’t they?”

Even after all the times they never helped you get up after you’ve fallen down? Even after every time they’ve hurt you? You still believe they love you?

“Of course.”

Why?

“Why shouldn’t I? Will belief strike me down as I stand before you? Will it carry out it’s wrath on me for following my beliefs? Or are you the one who is blind to their own feelings, and is buried within harsh realism?”

I’m only a realist because it is the only way for me to live.

“Is it really?”

Of course.

“Why?”

Because dreams give me false hope.

“When is hope ever false? When is it that the feeling of happiness in the face of adversity reveals beneath it a fraud? When is belief ever false?”

Belief is always false; because what we believe to be true turns false, and what we believe to be false becomes the truth.

“But isn’t truth relative? Isn’t it ourselves that decide that which is true and that which is false? Isn’t it a human who bit into the sweet fruit and bestowed upon it apple?”

Maybe, but it is also a human who stole the apple and poisoned it for his own objectives. And what about you then? If truth really is relative, then what does that make us? If we believe ourselves to be dead, then are we? If we believe ourselves to be happy, then are we? Or are we merely pretending that we create truth, and that every truth that we as a culture has established proves to be false, and nothing proves to be true? What do we make of it then?

“Within every falsity is the memory of the truth; you just need to look hard enough to find it. So within every web of falsity, there must be at least one truth. Who established it is irrelevant; all that we need to know is that it’s there and it’s waiting to be grasped?”

Then why do you shield yourself within a web of lies, knowing that you cannot grasp the truth?

“It is the only way I’ve come to grips with the truth. Sometimes, it is the lies in life that allows us to realize our truth, no matter how blunt or horrible or unfair it may be.”

Then why do you smile?

“Because I don’t like my truth, and I’m willing to die to change it.”

“My hitsuzen.”

Pulling Out the Nail

To find who is precious to you…

Isn’t that your goal?

To find them and protect them with your life?

What will you do when you discover that all they desire

Is to hurt you.

To slowly drive nails, one by one,

Through your coffin so you’ll never get up again.

Will you protect them even then?

When they betray you?

Will you,

Can you

Call these people precious?

You try to pull the nails out,

One by one,

But you can’t.

Your fingernails bleed from too many splinters

And your heart cries from too many scars.

It is only when you’re alone and weeping

That you’ll realize the truth.

Maybe there’s more

Maybe there’s better

But by then it’ll be too late

Because your coffin’s nailed shut

And no one’s there to help you.

So you wallow in your self-pity

And torture yourself so that

You remember to feel real.

Don’t forget though;

There is always one.

Always one person there for you.

Always one friend to wipe your tears.

Always one peer to hold you close.

Always,

There is one lover

To pull out the nails

One by one.

So that you can be free.

But will it be worth it?

After the pain

After the suffering

After the tears

Will life be worth it?

You bet your ass it will be.

Embrace what you have,

Don’t envy that which is

Out of your grasp.

So tell me,

Will you rise to meet the day?

Or

Will you wallow in your own filth?

Here

So here you are again

Even before the day’s begun

You’ve arrived.

Even after all of the people that doubted you,

Thought you to be a failure,

A dropout,

Here you are.

Maybe not a genius,

But genius is overrated.

Maybe not a cynist,

They have no fun.

You smile as you catch them,

Even though you hurt inside.

Because these people,

The ones you call loved ones,

Are the ones that hurt you so.

That doubted your worth.

But here you are again,

Working your ass off

In the heat of the early dawn.

A hundred laps,

Then a hundred push-ups.

A thousand hopes.

“I can do it.”

“I can make them proud.”

Your dream,

Is it worth it?

All of this work,

All of this pain?

I’m here…

Isn’t that answer enough?