Consideration, Not Contempt

And what of me, in all of this?

I am far from a perfect being

Broken and horrible inside;

Self-aware enough to know that 

My desires and my mind's eye

Put me at a disadvantage,

Left feeling a belligerent,

But also bruised sense of meaning.

Claiming and denying to my 

Unmitigated averageness -

I am anything but present.

Ascending toward average

From my place in myopia;

Big dreams with no chance of success.

Buddha says that my wanting is 

Sufferings worldly beginnings,

But I will not leave want alone.

A meal, a song, a hug, a text

Can be deemed as a mild success 

Or leave me feeling discomfort

Within, a void and rejection.

People are a season, I've found

But it was never to be me.

So many, so easy to escape

But I thought I was something else.

I must store away my yearnings

And focus on what I have now,

In this pivotal journey home.

In a brief moment of silence

My mind is able to again

Project forward and play pretend,

Leaving me craving and vulgar.