Grave Robber

I never really believed in dying all that much
I used to tell my friends that I was a grave robber
for every buried dream
and that I could see headstones on each of their hearts
well, in the end it wasn’t what it seemed
cause it’s been a while since I cared about the corpse
of any aspirations outside my own
and my pulse doesn’t thump
to write eulogies for anyone anymore

I’ve been focused on the mirror mirroring meanwhile my friends became a blur
and I never cared
because to build my personal legacy
I was willing to go it alone
but it turns out the pyramids aren’t just a wonder
they’re a tomb

and I don’t care how thick you think your skin is
success cannot coat you in metal
you are not bulletproof to the world
loneliness will still find you
like a star fallen from a constellation of would-be friends
our loneliness sank into all of our stomachs
like a glowing red coal filled up our bodies with lonesome smoke to remind us
that we will always be desperate to be wanted
and we will never be wanted enough

on every scale people will outweigh achievement
but I’ve watched myself buy into the lie
that applause is a measure of importance
when I know popularity is nothing more than a fad
because we will never be wanted enough
we just don’t know how to give that away

but I think we do know that we are so much smaller than ourselves
and that beauty is in the eye of the beholder who finds a shine in something long ago rusted over

we need each other’s permanence when there is no such thing as death
there’s only placement

but we chase our dreams in all-out sprints
like they’ll be enough to hold us
well, I haven’t created anything that I haven’t wanted to show off
and there is no one left to look

what’s wrong with me is I can’t seem to sing harmony on my own

we divide up at every turn
with a belief that we’re better than one another
and we arm ourselves to the teeth

like screaming originality is a bullet to put in the gun of peace
but screaming is not understanding
screaming is just screaming
and for all the times I told my friends that I could push them to be the greatest no matter how hard it seemed
I didn’t care about any of their dreams
I was far too caught up in me and that’s the harsh reality

because we’re all desperate to be wanted
and if I’m honest

I don’t want everyone
I want my moment of glory but then the road gets lonely

I would trade every poem I ever wrote for peace
and to be understood just one time
to stop believing that achievement outweighs people
and to find a balance that could set things right
sorry for all my envy