Humans are like stars,
each one shines brightly, but they all stay so far away from one another.
When there are too many bright lights around you, you lose sight of all the other stars.
There's always that one star that brings you more light than  any other.
There's always that one star that shows you where to go.
When you get tired of one, there's always another.
Some shine brighter than others, but they all shine.

The worst part is that I have faith in humanity,
the worst part is that I don't know if they'll succeed.
They try so hard to destroy themselves.
And metaphor explains it so much worse.
Humans are like birds,
they need to spread their wings and try to fly.
Humans are like a boat on sea,
they drift with no direction, trying to find something to anchor to.
Humans are like a riddle,
they hide their secrets in cryptic words.
And yet as I say this, I cannot help but think;
each one of these creatures are so much more than you think.
These metaphors describe some of us perfectly.
These metaphors don't do some of us justice.
A policeman dies in the line of duty
saving a small child.
Was this him spreading his wings? Anchoring to bay? Some solution to his riddle?
Some things a metaphor can't explain.
Maybe he gave his life to save the child because someone did that for him.
Maybe he was raised by television, idolizing superheroes who risk their lives to save the day.
His story gave him his personality
and he gave his story up so another could begin.
Maybe someday that child will grow up to become a member of the police.
Maybe they, too, will give up their life to save another.

The stars look wonderful tonight.
I was looking up at them.
Each one so distant,
I think to myself that the light must have travelled so far
just to be percieved by me
at that moment.
Literally unreachable, and yet there they are.
They hang in the sky, never fading.
They are the ultimate metaphor.

They are unreachable,
yet beautiful.
They represent success,
but failure in mankind.
They lead the way to the future,
but they are so distant.

Five minutes late
to the starting line
everyone's going
I don't feel fine.
Starting behind
and you see
everyone else
being set free.
Knowledge growing
brains are smart
where do you
begin to start?
Trying to follow
not sure how
feeling dumb
right about now.

Patiently, the astronaut waits.
The world drifts by below.
It's beautiful. Drifting in a way like no one has ever seen.
Only him. He's the first and last. The one man to see the Earth like this.
The world looks weak and wounded
but somehow beautiful.

The Spaceman drifts by,

he glances down at the earth.

He wants one picture.

Torn up inside

because he can't see what I see

something about him is just amazing

fantastic

other worldly

it's hard to put your finger on it, but if you were ever to meet him you'd know what I meant.

Something grabs you about them. Something about them inspires you.

At first you may not understand,

not the same way that I did.

But you know that there's something different.

Something so amazingly unique.

So exclusive to them.

The sweetest heart

the nicest smile

the kindest words

radiating friendship.

As I try to finish this,

I find myself at a loss for words

while I try to summarize you

Amazing

Brilliant

Incredible

Fantastic

Awe inspiring

Affecting

Impressive

Astonishing

I stare down the barrel of a gun

They say the moment before you die, your whole life flashes before your eyes, but all I can think is "Why am I here right now? Why couldn't it be that old man I was pissed off at yesterday for taking forever to cross the street? Why couldn't it be the bank teller over there, cowering?" There's some serenity in this. Now I won't have to pay my parents back all that money they loaned me. Now I won't have to worry about taking my girlfriends dog out for a week, and she won't get pissed at me for not having as many jobs as she has, or not contributing what she contributes to our household. Maybe this is for the best. Maybe it's my punishment for not having a nice job and a nice family and a nice house and a pet cat and dog and two kids, Sally and Billy, and the perfect parents, and no drug habits, and no alcohol abuse, and no sorrow, just money out the wahoo and the ability to buy whatever I wanted whenever I wanted it. Was this my punishment for not being rich? Why couldn't I be the next Bill Gates? The next Mark Zuckerberg? The next genius kid billionaire? I never considered myself a lucky person, but maybe this would be the best thing that ever happened to me. People would come to my funeral and they wouldn't think "Oh, there he goes, that drunk bastard never did anything useful." no, they would look at me and say "Oh, why did he have to die so young? Oh, the torture and why does this happen to good people?" and they would remember me for what I once was, not what I am now. Maybe it's better this way.

I close my eyes for a second, accepting my fate.  Immediately, the sounds from the outside world come rushing back. Panic erupts in my head, and I open my eyes once more. The gun doesn't bring me relieving thoughts anymore, but now frustration, the desire to struggle, the desire to live. I'm frozen though. Frozen in time and space, but things are moving quickly around me. The human that the gun belongs to is yelling at me, but I can't hear him. My heart is beating too quickly, the life of a thousand people gushing through my veins, all of my ancestry trying to keep me alive, trying to give me the energy to move faster, to be faster, to escape certain death. I can feel the panic mounting, trying to take control of me, but I am the mare, and panic is my rider. I try to buck him off, but every move I make, they just hold on tighter, find a better hold on me. I'm desperate to escape, but is it even possible? I can't breath, impulsively I try to grab my chest, but my arms don't even move. Manic and panic and distraught smack my face, and I'm beginning to think the gun sees it too. The trigger finger looks worried, and I remember the scene in the movies where they tell you not to be a hero. "Okay" I say aloud, not quite sure why, it just seemed like the right thing to say. 

Guns loaded

Ready

Hand on my revolver as I glance down at my foe

his speeds unmatched, or so they say, 'cause I go toe to toe. 

His eyes are brown.

His coat is dusty.

His gun is like a mirror. 

His hands are nervous.

He moves fast,

I move quickly.

BANG

BANG

I'm gonna be a better man

And I'm trying and I'm dying just for you

And I'm gonna be a better man

but I'm sighing and I'm crying just for you

You sit there looking lonely with my heart in your hand

I sit there looking at you from a distance wanting to demand

I'm gonna be a better man

and you're the one who's gonna be my wife

And I'm crying…

and I'm dying

and I'm trying just to be a better man

You wonder if I can give you all of the things you need

well baby just don't worry cause for you my heart does bleed

and I'm crying,

and I'm lying,

and I'm dying just to be a better man.

There's a method to my madness,

soon you'll understand

there's a method to my madness,

I say as you see the master plan

There's something great a' coming

I see it round the bend

Here's how it's gonna go

and I don't think it depends

on who's got the right answers

or who knows the right way

There's a method to my madness

and soon you'll comprehend

the method to my madness

it's right around the bend.

follow me to victory

follow me, my friends.

There's a method to my madness

and this is how it goes.

There's a method to my madness,

it'll keep you on your toes

there's a method to my madness

but I'm sure that no one knows

the method to my madness

it actually kind of blows.

Things get so damn complicated

confusing in their own damn way

but something that'll never change

is love and feeling it that day.

Smiles as they walk together

but you stand there silently

not sure what the response is

not sure who holds the proper key.

Left a bit too speechless

not a way left in you to describe

the way you want to shout aloud

the things that you do feel inside.

You want to shout it from the rooftops

but you're better off to not

enjoy it from afar, you think

some things are better left unsaid.

Something inside me shattered.

Broken into pieces, I try not to blink.

On the outside, I remain calm,

but on the inside, I am torn apart.

I'm unsure how long I can remain stable

as the ugly, shattered bits try and cut my skin from inside

trying to escape.

I take a breath.

Remain calm, I tell myself.

The world is still here.

The universe is still here.

This is not the end of the world.

I take another breath.

In time the pieces will dull.

The sharp points will become a soft and gentle.

While they may yet again break,

and try to cut away and escape to the outside

I can look around and realize;

This is not the end of the world.

Sometimes I sit afeared,
lonely with my cups of beer,
something deep within my chest
wants to burst, to be the best
I look down, slightly afraid
my hair now done in braids
as the chest burster explodes out
and my mouth begins to shout.

The night sky is dark and faded
the stars seem duller than before
every time I reach up to grasp them
something else pulls my hands down
I look to see what it is
but all I see is a face
At first I think it's the face of an angel
but then I see through the disguse
as it takes off the mask
and all I see
is myself.

Hand on my six-shooter
I turn to look my foe in the face
He whips his pistol out at me
but I'm a second quicker.
I see fear in his face for a second,
but then he drops to the ground
Everything about him stopped
but the fear in his eyes still remained.

Misfortune litters my mind as I read

I continue to look at it, however, trying to probe and analyze

Suddenly, self doubt. Am I the intended audience?

I pause for a moment, unsure, then continue on. 

Is it really true, could it possibly mean; this or that?

I take a step back, this is only what it means to you.

I take a step forward, this is only what it means to you.

I continue to analyze despite my best efforts

my brain sabotaging my intentions. I ponder for a second

what exactly this could all mean, then I realize I'm reading too closely

or am I? This all applies to you, and to me.

Maybe what I didn't understand about you I will now.

Maybe everything I understood about you I won't anymore.

I can't continue to look at this, every time I read another word

the thoughts in my head slip away from me and I go deeper and 

deeper into the thoughts in your head

but I'm not sure I understand so I try to go a little deeper

this is the only privacy you have left, and here I am trying

to invade it, if what I read is true then you're just as clueless as I am. 

Is it worth it to keep on going just to understand you,

or do I really want to understand you at all anyways?

I finish reading your statements and I'm filled with a sorrow and emptiness

is this what art is? Is this the proper response?

I can't tell anymore, but does it matter if I can tell anymore?

I am not the only singular person anymore because you opened up your mind

I can't be the only one who thinks like I do because you just thought like I do.

I've never felt alone before but now I feel like I should have felt alone because

I never knew anyone thought like I did

and you surprise me with every word, just like I surprise myself.

As if life wasn't a beautiful thing before

as if I wasn't misunderstood before

as if I had all the answers by myself

as if my pride hadn't allowed me to tell anyone what I thought.

I'm not a singular man anymore. I'm a human now. 

Everything makes sense and it's all clicking into place.

Now I just need to keep toe to toe with you and keep pace.

My mind is no longer my home base, because I no longer need 

to phone home when I need to think, I can just use you as a satellite

to bounce my ideas off of and have you tell them to me in a plain

and organized fashion because everything I say is just a jumble of words but everytime you open your mouth an eloquent and well constructed phrase comes out that means more than I could ever say and every word I try to put into your mouth you spit out in beautiful poetry and every word you speak to me resonates so clearly it's like a bell chiming in the wind the sound so beautiful because you know and understand at last that there's something invisible between you and I that makes it so right just to let everything come out in an organized fashion and no one can take that away.