for some, how human
feeling is our mutual responsibility
Somehow being human has become a dying art
As though we are straining to study the essence of humanity
As though kindness must be taught
As though care must be disciplined
As though thoughtfulness must be demonstrated
As though living must be earned
Somehow expressing feelings from the heart has become an act of heavy hauling
As though we must explain our own existence
As though we must prove our own purpose
As though we must trial run our own trying
When did we steel our emotions?
When did they steal our souls?
When did every step become so steep?
When did everything become so sharp?
And yet,
How far stretched can my hand help?
How far down can my grief grow?
Because at some point it’s not just my own
At some point I feel someone else’s
At some point living can’t just be for myself
At some point a heart still hurts when a (every) body pains
Everybody pains.
i hope this still counts,
mai sunshine