human skin can be hard to live in


It’s more than just what defines us as human beings. It’s more than our genetic makeup of our twisted DNA. So how do I know I’m alive? Is it the way most Christians answer their second birth…“Because I was born.” Or must we suffer an unsatisfactory life because that’s the definition of our reality.

 Is it by the simplicity in daily life? By the way I have to put lotion on before touching paper. How my toast has to be perfectly crisp on the edges yet soft enough in the middle, topped with strawberry jam. Is it the way I am capable of falling in love with people I’ve never met and places I’ve never been. Is it the feeling I get right after it rains, igniting my passion to dance in the rain? Am I human, or am I as a trained soldier going into this war called life.   How ironic that the things we do to feel alive are also the things that can kill us. I live in a world where “fake” is the new trend; Fake tans, fake nails, fake hair, fake people. We live in a place where some are so homophobic they’d rather see a gay man die than be really alive. If you don’t see the wrong then ignorance is your life. If I am human how do I survive in such a robotic world, where the magazines and TV dictate my human being? I'm not a Robot and I'm not your clone. You're not a puppeteer and I am not a drone. Got a new master and I follow him alone. I want a good life until I'm gone from here away from this life. All this until I feel completely and utterly alive.

Poetry Slam: 


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