I don't know who this is for,
Who's address I would put on the envelope.
I have a few people in mind,
But I don't know if sending this to them would be the best idea.

I guess it's an open letter to my younger self.
My 15 year old self who was thrown into chaos,
Who walked into a crowd of scheming, malicious friends.

Friends? You ask.
Yes they were my friends,
And they fought,
And stole,
And clawed their way to the top of a power structure,
Just to have it all tumbling down.

I was there the entire time.
Never clawing,
Or climbing,
Just trying to hold everyone together,
Keep everyone' s peace of mind,
While I lost my own.

What they never realized,
What I barely realized,
Was that as they played the game,
Learned the rules,
Learned to win and lose,

I forgot those rules.
Forgot is too nice,
I ignored them.

I lost my head making sure everyone kept theirs,
And when the dust settled,
When everyone took off their masks and assessed the damage,
I was there.

At the top

Alone.

No one noticed,
They were to busy pointing fingers.
While they were busy throwing metaphorical stones and spears,
I was placing land mines,
And trip wires.

At the end of the day,
When the battle was over,
It was me and me alone at the top.
The victor,
The one who had amassed all the power and influence my friends were desperately trying to hold on to.

I am still here,
Pondering my morality,
Pondering how ******* lonely it is.

Because while they built the pedestal,
Put me on top of it,
And surrendered without even realizing it,

They also isolated themselves from me.
And me from them.
And they have yet to realize the war they have lost.

While they were busy throwing insults,
Calling each other monsters,
They never even looked at me,
Or noticed me.

I sat there,
The most power hungry,
Conniving,
And ambitious one of all.
I sat at the top,
And no one even noticed.

So to my 15 year old self,
Who was thrown into the fire,
And learned to lie,
And cheat,
And steal,
Who learned to not only survive,
But conquer them all-

I notice you.
And I fear the day you get to show your true colors again.

Darkness calls out
I know his name
I can recognize him at a glance
And yet, I am confused

But why the confusion?
You know what's wrong
You know what's right
It's just that simple

Some things, though feel
So good that
They just couldn't
Possibly be wrong

All I know
Is that when I think
I crave
Something wonderful

Intoxicating
Thrilling
Addicting
Wrong?

I don't know any more
So instead I run
Towards my buzz
And I forget

What was your name?

Romance is dead
This generation is lost
Corrupted morally
By online dating
Fast women
And Tantra

What ever happened
To romance
And love
They were murdered
The perp
Capitalism.

The morality of our present
                           will have implications
       on the repercussions

of what it means to be moral.

For the principles we bestow
       on others
                                of future words,
                                          of actions.
Will acknowledge
                    the motivations of future references.

Our ethics aren't beckoned by
       beliefs or
                         regional confides.
       They are moulded
on the evolution of our
                                     evolving humanity.

Showing that no matter our distance,
                                               the substance
                         of each.
Is morally imbued
                         within the fibre of each moment
we collect and share upon each other..

The injustice of death brought all other
injustices to the forefront of consciousness.
For a short time, right and wrong were very
clear and the world was very simple, albeit
false and irreconcilably wrong.