The Jane and John Does That No One Knows

PaRt 1: N0t AloNe

Dear plain Janes, John Smiths,

Jane and John Does,

Joe Shmoes and Whatsherfaces,

You live like ghosts,

Wondering what's beyond inevitable time and endless spaces.

Your hearts long to bleed but not feel,

To be loved but not give love in return.

You cloak your souls in black and embrace the cold

Just so you can bare the burn;

The hot blisters that flake your outer shell from life's erosion.

This body that came from the cosmos,

Made of star dust from a distant planet's sun explosion.

This hard, fleshy corps that you claim to be hollow from the inside out,

Those glossy, pink eyes shrouded in doubt,

Locked away in your own cage

You say they see everything;

Right through everyone.

This Earth is nothing but one big stage

And our lives are a show

That only you and unearthly beings know.

You've lost yourself in a black-hole abyss

And that's what makes it so hard to tell you this

When I fear you are too far out in space

Not attempting to hold onto your every breath

Because there is nothing left.

Even after the rigor mortis has taken effect

And you are grub for the insects,

Whom I will envy as they crawl through that beautiful, twisted mind

That you hid from all of mankind,

You think you are invisible because no one realizes you are there,

That no one sees you rotting in your coffin.

You think no one can hear your gasps for air,

That no one cares.

Life isn't fair,

And I know it's hard to bare,

But if I'm here and you're here

That has to mean something.

Or are we nothing,

But an insignificance?

-Everything is random and dictated by chance.

All there is to know,

Dear plain Janes, John Smiths,

Jane and John Does,

Joe Shmoes and Whatsherfaces,

Your existence is not just another void in the cosmoses.