Never had much in the first place, this should be an easy task. Won’t hold back, thirsty so I’ll drink straight out the bottle. Hard to see, the only things that held you together vanish like a memory. This bottle is finished, barely remember drinking it. Thinking steadily, hands open readily. Drop any and everything known to me. It was over in a second. Stuck with the after taste for a couple of minutes. Never had much, what’s the fuss, hold up, attachment. Still found myself scrabbling for more time as my identity dared to hit the ground. Maybe if I hold the bottle upside down long enough. Residue will join hand in hand, flowing with gravity to form a droplet. Just enough for me to have a taste once more. In actuality, a common fallacy. What shot to the ground was me. Imagine a baseball player diving for home run. How else was he supposed to make it.
That’s what it felt like. Suspended in mid-air, hold the thought there. This is the source of my issue because, of this feeling I’ll dis too, mistreat, chop of feet and even, strangle the life out of somebody. All my life I’ve been known as the good guy. Worked hard. To get put up, this high in everyone else’s mind. Take that from me. Sure sounds a lot like death to me. Who would I be. What would other’s see. Need outside opinion to be complete. Not ready to take that second step into the unknown. Forever in the zone, safer place than home. Upon a throne, wining at this game called life alone.
If I’m a winner. What reasons do I have to be so desperate to win in this moment. Look at me, going so far as to, one-up myself. At the sake of my own health. Drop everything I’m doing if that means I get the chance to show off. Diving for nothing there. Since when is identity just the parts and not it’s entirety. The disgust felt, watching myself now, tiring. No wonder, most people just give up when around me. How you out clown a clown. Out ass an ass and live with a man who is only comfortable when everyone else isn’t. You just kinda give him what he wants. You can tell he really needs this.
Even with all this, Feelings still in a free fall. Who would I be without this. Dumb-ass, you’ll still be you. Although true. I’m more afraid of finding out who I truly am. A bird or a rat with wings. To fall down is to be weak. The thought, feeling, a little tweaked. Falling. Have yet to truly fell. Stay suspended in hell. Funny though, for an illusion I clearly fell. My identity was mines to begin with. Proving it, is the next step. Don’t know how, no confidence to figure it out. So we shout. Acting proud all the while dumb found.
Silly of me to cling onto a cloud. Every changing, parts rearranging. Even if It flipped upside. Took the shape of a clown, Poor sucker, lazy fucker. It would still be a cloud. Inspire to be just like a cloud. That thought came to me the moment, I allowed myself to fall down. Eat dirt, stained my shirt, no longer a player, didn’t make it back home to first. Oh well. Things could always go better or worst.