we are who we are,

but what makes us who we are,

what makes us human?

we are all just trying to get by,

trying to stand up to the Man,

and love the ones who love likewise;

we are who we are. 

 

but when nobody else is looking,

(there’s always somebody else looking) 

we feel most at home. 

how cruel to put us on a planet with others if we don’t want others.

there is no god, here. not yet. 

 

a solitary fire burns us, 

we step out against the norm and it scorches. 

quiet moments in silver sands,

that is where we stay. 

heart? or brain?

 

he looks back to the stone,

name etched, flowers pitched,

scrubs eyes, like he had been told to,

he cries. 

for a moment, one tear is allowed to fall.

he falls.

looks,

sees us, and smiles. 

tear gone, and conversation here. 

we are who we are,

but who, are we?