Beginning at the End

Loneliness has replaced an abundance of intimacy and personal connection. 
Sad about the empty space on my bed that used to be a warm indentation. 
Pressed by my person who held my secrets and knew my limitations.
Is part of being human owning those feelings of loss and desperation? 

Will my children grow up to be productive members of society?
Can they stand tall and hold their own in the face of adversity?
Did we raise them right and provide them with love and certainty?
Could those kinds of questions just be symptoms of our humanity? 

Is mental pain supposed to dissolve when the lesson is learned?
I still feel the grip of the pain, the release I think I've earned. 
Do I need to embrace the anguish even though it fucking burns?
"You're only human" is a pretty shitty way to say "you're too concerned"

A sense of belonging drives my decisions, nobody wants to be alone. 
The solitude is inevitable if within yourself you haven't built a home. 
The indistinguishable timeline of life is a complicated palindrome. 
Why is being human a trek through a complex labyrinth of emotional catacombs?

Indifferent about how far I had to travel to get to this space.
Or if the place I'm striving to get to is just a fictional trace,
Of the past I recklessly cling to because I yearn to feel safe. 
Is my humanity the cause of my moral compass feeling displaced?

We love we laugh we complain we adjust we refrain we enjoy we shame we forgive we explain we become we lack we begin we try we cry we learn we apply we wish we stress we believe we want we hate we envy we hope we give we take we evolve we break we bend we rise we fall we live and we die. 

If we open our minds and live in our truths we won't need to pretend. 
Our collective consciousness assists us and guides us to transcend,
The fundamental foundations that we unconsciously defend. 
The human experience is a beautiful dichotomy of beginnings and ends.