tiny chicken claws

where did the chicken come from?

broken eggshells tell.

pecking to freedom,

evolution's run its course.

the egg was here first.

i'd like to think

that i could

take criticism in stride

and embrace it

like an old friend.

after all, i'm not perfect:

nobody is.

when people ask me for criticism i am

noncommital

and i give

no real answer

because i feel like

i'm being mean.

so it's no surprise that

criticism feels like cruelty.

i want to improve

but criticism feels like failure

and i'm tired of failing

at everything i do.

i need my words to be cushioned

like pillows at the bottom of a cliff

because i tell people i'm not afraid of heights

but the drop is formidable.

i'll ask for your opinion,

but i don't really want it,

and yet i need it

i crave it-

as long as it's "nice."

everyone's a critic

including myself

but my own insecurity

doesn't numb me to the

suggestions

of everyone else.

and yet

i don't want

to listen.

no, i don't take criticism well.

this relationship is a boiling sea

the ebb and flow of you and me.

the world could fade into black

and i'd never feel the darkness coming.

i try to drag us back to shore

but dipping our feet

always turns into something more.

together we're slipping into the crack

of an endless rift in the sea.

i've been trying to stop it,

i've been tryna swim with both my hands behind my back

but my legs are getting tired

and i don't know how much longer

i can keep going.

i thought i could make it work

so i dived in headfirst.

but my dear,

i've always feared the ocean

and you and i

are a neverending sea.

horns blow

like a clock

chiming at midnight

the battlefield is gray

on this colorless day

a war has begun

but it won't be won

for some battles have no victor

only death's cruel kill.

the swords clash

like a holiday toast

and the guns they blaze

like a fire's hissing roast.

the rain it falls

like a glorious hail

it pelts armies like reminders

that this fight

is to no avail.

where is the line

between sinner and saint?

does vengeance make you sick

or does it make you great?

when they take my eye,

is it right to sit and wait?

shouldn't i strike back

so we may meet the same fate?

if the whole world is blind,

is it really that bad?

should appearances matter?

should we be afraid of

the dark?

should we let ancient philosophies

tell us how to light our spark?

why can't we think

of a better way to fight

than by judging who's wrong

and which one is right?

can't we just let them live

without condemning their life?

is there a way to be free

from the stigma of strife?

and will it ever be enough

to satisfy?

will you be satisfied

if you take just an eye?

or will you keep taking and taking

until the whole world is blind?

solitary confinement

should have made me feel blue

because my friends were all far away

and the world was out of view.

i felt a lot of things i'd been trying to ignore

and i felt like the world was a ceaseless bore.

anything and everything, i felt it like a wave to shore

but not lonliness, no, i wasn't lonely anymore.

in a world of isolation i should have felt rough

because everyone around me was collapsing with a huff.

but in the world of masks i was at home.

i no longer had to fake a smile to feel less alone.

at last, everyone felt as trapped as i

it took solitary confinement for me to feel alive.

lets take a walk through an ocean town

where our thoughts aren't enough to make us frown.

let's take a stroll across the sandy shore

and gawk at the shells so we're never bored.

let's walk the planks of the run-down pier

imagining the ships that once docked here.

let's pretend that we live on a house on the beach

so that it feels like success and happiness are within reach.

let's take a walk through an ocean town,

because the real world makes us want to drown.

existence is all about

abandonment

even the stars fade

when the sun rises,

leaving you alone

in your house of mirrors.

everything is fleeting,

that's the one rule that will always stay,

but don't see it as doom,

see it as hope for a new day.

if at any moment it could all go away,

keep watching the stars,

savor them like chocolate

before they go away.

i hide from my mind,

pushing it down

pretending that it's all a dream

and i'm a boat rowing gently down a stream.

i pretend that i'm alive,

but i'm only hiding from my mind

and when it finds me

it will have no mercy

all the thoughts i've been ignoring

all the pain i've caused it.

i didn't mean to.

it'll never forgive me for what

i've done.

i don't hate my mind,

i only fear it

because

its suffering

is my fault.