sjsprWriting

We are afraid because we are human.

We are afraid to be human.

We are afraid of the us that is real.

Nights are longer now

and the days too short,

even for the ones who can sleep at night. 

We step on cracks on the sidewalk 

to break something or someone other than ourselves,

and constantly cut down the flowers that 

are overgrown

in a way of reverting back to a confused perfection

created by or imperfect natural selves.

We have found too much solice in the natural way

that we have accepted the unnatural.