We as Humans

Temperate.

I simmer
lukewarm
on burners of patriarchy
evolved of monarchy.
I deny testing formula
sunlight heated
on my wrist
and lack weight
to form a brand new path.
I don't need love
deeply
truly
consumingly
so I'll never have it.
I like
I guess.
I only ever guess.
I don't resolve.
In a library of books
of information
of truth
of lies
of wonder
at my disposal
none are written by me
yet I read them none the less.
I use dictionaries
of a language structured
past fluid
to add to my collections
of buts
and yets
and maybes.
A hurricane
once peaked my interest
but I stayed clear.
I will never know
the heat
of a forest fire.
Some are raging scorches
and some are numbing blizzards
but one thing
my library has told me
is that when a hot front
meets a cold front
it creates a tornado.
I don't want to experience
the edge of living.
For that edge is a blade
and I can't take papercuts.
So instead
of hate
of love
of joy
of sorrow
of thrill
I'd rather stay
temperate.

Long time no suffer. Artists tend to make things when they are low. All the best works are about pain and negativity. Occasionally when they are high. But if it explains anything, as you can see, I've been trapped in between.