i don’t know what to pray to

or to whom

i should address my

existential stress to.

who could possibly hear me

over the chatter of billions

with much more important things to say?

eyes to the sky

searching for answers among rainclouds

looking to each other with questions

only to stare in silence.

for who has mastered the art

of putting feelings into words

that can be understood

by another?

we guard our scars like trophies

bleeding hearts worn proud

glorifying psychological manipulation,

battles fought with words as weapons

a double sided sword

swung in the name of love

only weakens those we claim to protect,

because our hearts are not soldiers

drafted to fight in a war

our pride won't let us desert,

prolonging our own liberation

preying on our ignorance,

naivety is a nuclear weapon

disguising abuse as contingency plans,

because we can't see our own downfalls

through the thick smoke of gunfire

you're afraid to break

because if it's not sharp

it's useless,

like everyone who's ever told themselves

"I can't do this",

when all they had to do

was get up

and find a fucking pencil sharpener.