Thickets

NOT HUMAN

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BE A HUMAN BEING
THAT'S THE REASON I WON'T LET ANYONE CLOSE TO ME
I DON'T FEEL THE SAME WAY AS YOU
I DON'T YEARN LIKE HUMANS DO

I have a mouth without teeth and no fingernails on my hands
I am the harmless mirroring alien for which you chose to care

I rub mud all over and in my eyes and you say it looks pretty; looks human

I cry because I don't understand, but you just look at me because you don't understand either

You say you love all of outer space but I know you can't grasp its infinite nature
Sweet lies can hurt so much if they're repeated as words of comfort

TELL ME WHAT I WANT TO HEAR
MAKE ME PRESS MY HANDS TO MY EARS

You found a creature, an alien, on a planet so far away from yours
Looked at it, talked at it, studied it

You saw its shining rubbery skin and YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ALL UP AND OVER IT

YOU TOUCHED THE ENDS OF ITS BONES,

CARESSED THE ROUGH PARTS UNDER ITS FEET,

PRESSED THE BAGS AROUND ITS EYES,

SQUEEZED THE MUSCLES ON ITS LIMBS

TOOK IT FROM THE PLANET IT WAS COMFORTABLE ON TO ADMIRE YOUR DISCOVERY AT YOUR OWN PLANET

In a poor attempt to introduce the creature to earth you tell it not to change or adept
Because change is frowned upon in a museum, behind the panels made of glass

I prefer the comfort of being alone
To not be touched, skin to skin and bone to bone
And yet I seek validation in the arms of my peers
Completely disregarding my own cosmic fears