I am so afraid of being alone But I am too tired to be around you. I am plagued By this overwhelming need to know. Full understanding eludes me In so many ways. I argue in a surreal philosophical conversation a battle of belief with my father. Does compassion exist? He thrusts Buddha at me This white man With his cell phone. What does he know? He says that people are capable Of compassion Loving others as much or more as the do themselves. I don’t believe him. The human animal is An inherently selfish beast. We do nothing that does not in some way serve Our own needs. Where is his compassion His selflessness? He claims parents can love their children so. Then why do I endure alone Where he could lend me aid? People do not comprehend kindness. They think me mad Or weak For trying to do what I can, where I can. And maybe I have let myself be used And given myself where I was not wanted But there was no other way for me to live Even if it kills me in the end. I will pay the price again and again Wet dry lips and speak the words The only ones I’ve ever meant Take what you need Till I am fully drained Emptied out upon the world My need to be taken complete. There is no rest for me as a living being I will keep on striving Dying measure by measure Under the stranglehold of my ideals. They’re really not ideal for a life in reality.