I run towards you, my refugee, where are you in the shadows? The depth of darkness engulfs you, swallows you whole. Where are you my love? Blurred in black is all I see, unfamiliar you've become, who are you? I feel you caress my face, your long fingers stone, they move down to my breasts and then you pull me in. Filth. (I am) Disgust. (You say) I can't see you. (Right in front of me) I try and speak under panting breath, words you push away from your ears. (I love you) You turn away once your done taking, I'm left in a cold white pile. I see you, death is painted on your face and the lack of life in your eyes. I am nothing. You feel nothing, nothing is something.

Never risk your self-worth for someone who won't risk anything on you.

I am a tiny bit of everything.

I was born, I hope to live and I will die.

A document will define my "education", which will then define my "intelligence", my job and then "my worth".  Those things don't matter.

All the things we do are a yearning for human connection, acceptance and status.  Perhaps we should stop worrying about the middle-man and be true to ourselves.  Aspire for achieving what we really love rather than money.  Take a look around at the riches we have already been given, the sun and the dirt, you and me.   

We are a tiny bit of everything.