We were starving, but not for food. Never for food.
We hungered for experience;
for that addictive rush of adrenaline that fulfilled our need for everything extraordinary.
That temporary shock of restlessness
and unfathomable mess it brought with it.
That goosebump-inducing desire to touch the sky;
the one that disregarded the pain of the fall that was inevitably bound to follow.
We were thirsty, but not for water. Never for water.
We felt our throats dry up to match the desert ground
and we longed for the rain.
For the day it would wash away
the grains of sand that disrupted our growth;
those tiny pebbles of empty-mindedness that stood firm on the feet of our foundation and disabled our movements.
For the day that heavenly water
would pull up colors from our roots and out-shine their blinding black.
We couldn’t breathe, but we didn’t need air.
Our lungs longed for genuine emotion instead.
They longed to finally feel
a beating in their ribbed cages.
To find a reason for that beat
and to hold on to that one passion
that kept a steady rhythm pumping through our blood.
To find a substitute for the oxygen our world is killing
and replace it with something
from within ourselves;
something that would keep us going without inhaling.
No one knows us like we do.
Our desires have no place in their books and their religions. We were not fashioned from the same cloth; our eyes are not like their eyes. They don’t see what we see.
But one day we’re gonna shine a light so bright; that thick layer of hate cloaking their pupils will disappear.
And when we soar, they will have no other choice but to bask in the happiness that we will radiate.