Low Standards

Thought that maybe my standards have been low. 
That to make it through a day alive, without giving up 
is a success. 
To make it through a day without being weighted down by anxiety or regret is sometimes a feat. 
That to stop in the day and see the sun and feel it on your skin is the biggest win there is. 
That to spend a day not selling lies or shit, 
not feeling like you are owned is about as free as you can get. 
That there is no greater good than to share a real hug or sit with someone while they cry. 
No greater good than to cherish a sprout or see glory in a small beautiful thing. 
Maybe I have seen myself as a cat and all I was designed to do is loaf through this life 
beautiful and warm, 
sleepy, bored and interested 
until a threat makes me jump to defend my turf, my place to nap 
and then when safe 
curl back up. 
Maybe my standards are low like the soil and earth 
and your perfect body laying down next to mine. 
low like us laying together, 
pulled down towards the core of our lost heavy little planet, 
floating in space.