M. Hank

Cursed.

Am I cursed?

Cursed to tie myself to people, swearing that they’re going to be different.

Only for resentment to grow like ivy, sentencing me to a place of discontent.

I’ve called it paranoia.

i think i know why aliens haven't visited us. they're 

definitely watching with rapt attention, waiting 

to see how we climb the highest wall 

humanity built for ourselves in the past 

Fear is such a funny thing, which looks at you with no humor in its gaze
  and never blinks wide eyes, and is thin and crippled and seething, and has tears glinting off its cheeks, and is
    small and alone

these shoes feel like wings. 

i am 

f    l    y    i    n    g 

across the newly grooved pavement, balancing