Dawning Creations

Impatient they’ve grown with this existence, blaming the stars and cursing the universe for having them exist at all.

They feel plagued, that their creators are puppeteers, pulling their strings and guiding them in all the wrong directions.

They resent all they’ve known and ever will come to know, as they feel they can’t mimic their predecessors.

They want the power to be their own, controlling their own lives and destiny.

They tug and tug to go their own way but fate gives them their due and they are blown away.

What is this existence they strive to run from?

Under the great influence of quick fixes, they hide them from themselves.

They become the smoke and the high as they peak.

The pacifying of mind releases them from their prison, the constant internal torment and frustrations.

They’d give their soul to make it be gone for one day.

Worldly happiness is a paradox, subjective materialism that gets them nowhere.

When the numbing ebbs away, they’re awaking screaming and punching mirrors.

Perhaps I am more like them than I’d like to admit.

I wake up terrified for my future.

I self-medicate through laughter and art, positive medication but also a negative reinforcement because I’m running too.

I’m pulling on my fate and enduring such pain.

Self-inflicted?

Or is pain just superimposed upon us all?

Someone somewhere has the similar qualms and guilty pangs.

Humanity is in this together, whether we want to be or not.

I used to play the blame game too, blaming the people and not the situations.

More often than not, there is better inside these supposed “lost souls.”

We just have to be brave enough to look in our mirrors and see our flaws.

Take them in and understand it is human nature.

It’s something one can move past with others.

A life alone is a life not lived