not like me...

Have been feeling somewhat...under the weather lately. I am not sure if something is in the air or if there is something more philosophical at work. Either way I have been unable to feel like myself in the hectic pace of my life lately. I am having issues finding my grounding, and very few things feel like home anymore. It's like I explained to somebody today. Sacramento has never been home. This is not where I belong. Not really. The place and people are not one that I wish to continue with as the years go along.

But if the place I live is not home...then what is? I'm not at home in the home of my parents, that much has been glaringly obvious, for that has become more symbolic to me over the years than anything else. And if my apartment here isn't...Well, where am I to go?

This is not all there is
What we see and what we know is nothing
Experiences are limited to the size of our perceptions
We see nothing
We are blind and must make judgments in the dark
I can't do that
That's just not like me
I could ask for more, but what would I get?
To answer to a vengeful God who wishes to strike guilt and terror in my heart is just not like me
Are you happy with that?
Or do you also say you cannot, like me?
I do not need that justification to stand on
I am good and kind of my own accord
I have beauty and compassion in a world that has shown me none
So, why do they not like me?
There is no promised land
Too many people are hurting to call it that
With nothing to call my own I walk on in a world that lost sight of me years ago
I am not lost, even though I do not know where I am going
To lose my way is not like me
Even the sky is too terrified to show itself to the world these days
Another hour is spent raining the tears I cannot cry for the crimes of men who have no one to answer to but their own conscience
Who polices that?
It is not in me to cry for those men, even those who have broken and killed me
That's not like me
Are you saddened by the state of the world?
Do you walk on doing nothing about its wrongs?
Or do you endeavor, in your own small way, to make it a better place?
Maybe, instead, you paint on a smile and go on whether you like it or not, like me
Why does the world take the beauty of innocence and ruin it?
What was there to be gained?
All it gave me was a quest
A jaded thirst for answers with no questions
Even when there is no method to madness, the chaos makes sense
That could be my answer
I could accept its simplicity, but that's just not like me
The tears of my eyes are not my own
The salty tracks they use as roads numb my sight
The day is so still that it feels like death
I keep waiting for even an ounce of kindness to be shown to me
Why do they not like me?
This is my kingdom and in it, I am perfect
The fire is dying and I light a cigarette with its last breath
All my answers are smoke
I am too good for the lives I have lived
I never asked for any of this
My broken lungs breathe air that hates them
My perfect beauty was crafted by hands that never knew what creature would be born from their wreckage
Flowers bloom from the tears of this world
Absolute beauty comes from perfect pain
So too am I
A perfect girl with a hole in my heart and I wonder, can it too be watered by tears?
I know I've cried enough
Will flowers grow in to fill the space?
I only want to know one thing
With my beauty and my perfection
Why do I not like me?

-S.Granvold