hello little kitty cat,
sitting in the stairwell
nursing old wounds
what are you afraid of?

my tail is bent and my claw is broken
it's too early to tell
if I can still walk
without bleeding.
so that's why I'm afraid.

hey pretty baby bird,
perching on the tree branch
whispering your songs so quietly
what are you afraid of?

I only just repaired my broken wing
it's too early to tell
if it's fully healed
I'm not afraid to sing
but I may be too fragile to fly.
and that's why I'm afraid.

little girl, curled into a big chair
with a pillow under your chin
and a pitter-patter heart,
matching with the rain in the storm-drain...
what are you afraid of?


another blow to a patched up heart.

a difference.
in the air. in the attitude,
the yearning of my heart.
I look around
and the picture morphs
goes from blurry to painfully sharp.
rays of light magnify a thousand colours
and heat drenches my skin.
what is different?
changed from just yesterday...

ah, yes.
the grass, new.
growing, green, again.

no matter how perfect we seem to be
we all have a rotten after-taste.

not perfect. nothing is perfect.

we don't know how to love.
we don't know how to be selfless.
we're good at hurting
each other
and ourselves
let's count the knives in each others' backs.
and put poison in the wounds.
and feed the hungry some rotten apples.
and spit on the lonely
and break the hearts of children.

we twist and form ugly things with our hands.
we're good at bad art
and snide comments
and disrespect.

pleased with hating.
adept at ignorance.
proud of selfishness.
appearances decieve.

You won't relent until it's all gone.
and that day will never come
until forever.