Fascinating
The lies told, spun of truth
There’s laughter
In the unknowing-
The sparring in dark.
Light doesn’t receive us all-
The innards
Too cloaked with practiced humanity.
We teach ourselves
To help others
And hate others
Coveting
Everything but ourselves
And we don’t see
How it changes slowly.
Beckoning
And overwhelming
The revolving of water
Is the only comfort-
The consistency without pattern
And yet we’re too weak
To just turn over and live
Left to die in dust-
The anger that we think
Is another’s
We can’t find blame in our own eyes.

We’re the self-images of tiny gods.
Little and less powerful with each waking breath.