flux

we live in the cages we build ourselves.

our whole lives through we strive for
goals set by other people whose names
we do not know.

and if you are lucky then you want it
and if you are unlucky then you pretend to
because luck has nothing to do
with "securing your future."

i am working, barely,
for a piece of paper that tells me
that i am good enough in the eyes of others
to deserve more things i do not want.

i don't understand the definition of desirable.

there are three types of people in the world:
people who know that they are sad,
people who do not know,
and a third type i've
yet to meet.

(but who i hope exists.)

our whole lives through we strive for
relationships whose value is unknown or unnoticed,
because connections are key.

we treat it like a web upon which we weave our own designs,
but our construction relies too heavily on the material weight.

our bars are built in the sadness we choose for ourselves,
our lock and key fabricated from the arbitrary rules we choose to believe in,
despite the inherent longing for beliefs we have schooled ourselves away from
because simplicity lacks strength.

our prisons may be intricate,
but they are prisons nonetheless.