There are few times when I feel human.
The human that you read about in poetry
The human that is lost or longing or searching
That human that is full of errors and hope
That human that seems on the verge of greatness
That human that assures itself that it isn’t
That human that is trapped within its own mind.

I feel lost when I am talking to someone,
Seemingly fully engaged in that conversation,
Only to fall into a zombie-like state
I will answer, joke, make decisions, and exchange other pleasantries
Then, more than half way through the conversation
I’ll wake up
I will only have a watery member of what the person was saying
And nearly no memory of what I was saying.
I truly feel lost and empty at those times.

I long for something to put my name to
I long to get away and be included
I long to find Love
I long to fill myself with something worth keeping
I long to not feel alone
I long for myself to leave me alone
I long to be truly happy
I long to find out is any of these things are possible
I am merely a half filled human
And what I hate is that
That doesn’t make me special

I am searching for what I am longing.
It’s truly as simple as that.
I am searching a sunset when I am by myself and have a moment to breathe
I need to breathe and release
I loose myself in thought and float outside of my body
I am no longer in that vessel that moves me place I don’t want to go
I am no longer in that vessel that speaks for me
I am no longer in that vessel that bares a name, age, sex, and face
I am air searching the air
I am searching for something better to fill the vessel.

Errors are common and hopes are rare for me
Errors are now beyond me
All I can do is exit my vessel and watch it half-heartedly apologize
And hope is something that I have made material
Material objects I can gain
But I can do without
Therefore I can never have my hope crushed
I try not to truly hope
Hope is a tiring emotion
I am tired enough

I am on the verge of greatness and beauty
Almost twice a week
I am in the car
I will see the sky and its elaborate colors
And I will think to myself
“I want that-this forever.
It’s so…”
I will search for a word, a feeling
That is when I am right on the verge of something new and mind-blowing
But the car keeps driving and I feel empty
Like I let myself down
Like somewhere in me I know that if I found that word
My life would have meaning
My life would be complete
I was that close
I think I will always be on the verge
Never quite there

All of these feeling let me know that I am trapped
All of these things I have shared show you
I’m trapped
I hope that whatever I am searching for will push me over that verge
And into the sky
Into a place where I can accept myself
A place where others can accept me
Somewhere I am can be stupid and bold
Without that strange fear of someone disapproving of me
Without that strange fear of me letting that get to me
Somewhere I am comfortable in my skin
Somewhere I don’t have to escape
Somewhere that is warm and cool
Soft and startling
Fast-paced and mellow
Someplace interesting and familiar
Someplace outside of me
But I know that will be difficult because I know that that place is within me