Human Anatomy


The human anatomy is more than just

What the eyes can see

Or technology can clinically measure.

The human anatomy branches far past our cerebrum

And into the essence of who we are.

And archetypal tools of communication,

Skinny pens and delicate brushes

That weep on blank canvases of paper,

Have always been conduits 

For the human soul.


Messages and morals

and lessons and voices

Are inumerable in our world

And all crisscross together

before they fade as jumbled consonants

And sounds that most ignore

Because they are not their own.

I use my conduits

Because sometimes simply raising my voice is not enough.

And the voice that you must uplift

Isn't one that people will care to listen to,

So you must fight a battle of opinion

Or lament a wealth of emotions

In a way that will penetrate their defenses

And delicately open their eyes

So that they will curl their fists accordingly.

And sometimes, 

They curl their fists to stand with you

And raise their sleeping voices too

Or they clench them to stand against you.

With the written language,

You can start or end an era

In the flick of an eye

And influence the minds,

And lives,

Of many.


But through all the swirls and flowery-tongued designs 

Of my overused ink pen as its lips

Kiss the paper and leave behind my


One fact forever remains the same. 

Because, the truth is,

That when I raise my voice to be heard

The person that I hope heeds it the most

Is me.


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