writing poetry
finding the ‘right’ words
in the shortest amount of time
still watching the entire world pass me by
i take a word
and latch on another
and another and another
until i’m finished

but i never really finish
i’m never quite done
i still feel like this is a first draft
a rehearsal
a practice
and i’ll be able to go back and fix my mistakes
(eventually.)

what if that’s what our ‘heaven’ really is?
getting to fix all the things you think you did ‘wrong’?
and some of us are just more in tune with that
than others?

still don’t believe in a heaven
or hell
still don’t believe in an eternity
hereafter
there’s more out there than what we can see
but a supreme, conscious being,
that is the hardest to believe.

a balance with the universe, is what i believe
a yin and yang of light and dark
(though evil/good do cause me to pause
my thinking for just a second more)
opposites standing together
become whole, not opposing
and i can be whole within myself,
not two completely separate feelings/ideas/whatevers
struggling for supremacy,
i can be a person inside
who is whole
not opposing parts
never coming together
to create a powerful,
albeit rather strange
(and proud in my strangeness)
human person.

(it’s rather funny, to me,
that i really do not identify with much of the human race
but ‘human’ is my favorite designation
to stay outside the gendered binary)