By: Hudson Dexter

From the early hours of the morning

To the setting sun of dusk

I simmer and contemplate, almost mourning

The world that I live in, a husk.

Am I the only one?

 

Between edges that don’t quite match my mind.

I mind what I think and I think quite too much,

My actions forever incongruous with my soul 

so I seek something to latch onto, to be my crutch

Am I the only one?

 

The self separation only leads to further isolation.

Down the rabbit-hole of idealization,

Why are boxes made to marshal humanity?

 

Everything within me proceeds to fail expectation.

I crave a semblance of stability, relaxation,

Why are divisions formed to sectionalize beauty?

But I’ve found it,

 

a lack of standards, but in place of it, love

 

Something void of conventionality, but in place of it, community

 

To know that out there they understand, that maybe I could understand…

 

Maybe I am not the only one.

Photo Credit: wheregraceabounds.org