Second Pair Of Teeth in my Navel

Us versus them. We three are two high to be fighting down in the mud.

Lower you go, events turn trauma dig down and take root in your soul. Don’t believe in souls than If you wake up in the morning and say “Damn, where did the time go”. Chasing youth is how to define old. Looking back finding it hard to figure out, what you did or the facts. Dismissive action turn loose falling skin. Don’t matter, rich on the outside and or hideous within. This is where the second pair of teeth come in. Umbilical cord ripped off early, leaves mind and body weak, better know as pre-mature. Causal winds made weak bones squeak. Mother rushed out the hospital to work, bill to pay next week. Stomach growled for the love of a feast.

Started off in the negative, before I even had my actually set of teeth. Fend for myself ? Where is this power of which you speak. Some adults spend their whole life trying to make a 180 and put one point on the board before death speaks. Us versus them. Most people start off as one, basically against a whole species. Conflicts in history deep seeded. Human life mistreated, the morning will be different if last night you had trouble breathing. Found out my mother’s, mother went through the same troubles while teething. False dreams and hopes rejected. Harshness prerequisite of hostility. Life around us. Couldn’t believe it.

Well versed with death before age of four. Constantly struggle with how to get my weight up. Down for so long, my cloud nine was the embodiment of misery. They say a small bit of poison over time, will help get over the taste. Down that shit impatiently. Hungry to feel something other than pity for me. Satisfied with the lost of vision in my eyes, navigated the whole world differently. I don’t care if you see me, are you feeling me. Ever since then, been hungry for that feeling again. So I eat everything, second pair of teeth in my stomach, although it doesn’t talk. It’s my closest friend.

Two smiles. Body and Mind, perfect physique.

 

Clever Savagery

Take a full step back and picture yourself. On that picture, imagine me.

Nameless and faceless. As blank as a canvas can be. Use these words as outlines and color them, however you want them to be. Needless to say. This experience is now yours. It will follow you, one day you might need it, for sure ?

If outlines, sudden picture, confine spaces. Braces this, keep turning the pages. For sure, a blank page, all for you at the end. Method to chase this, read into the first pages. When did the moment sparking the situation being. The letters “cur” jumping to conclusions, all I thought of was “curse ” already negative. Feelings towards this book disperse. Things did get a little better when I, actually say the word “curator “. Apologizes owed. Mistake softly spoken or loudly told. Magic between the two, watch and see the difference. Smoke and mirrors targeted towards my fears and pleasures. Red already in hand so many fire hydrants and trucks here. Next page, crowd of people not an Afro insight. No color choice free from a heavy suggestion. Table of content or association questions.

Forget it, no regressing. Steady turn the pages forwards. Learning new lessons. Waiting for the time when I can use the colors I want to use. Express a simple mood. Sad to say when given the book, it’s a loose, loose.Retain this information, no excuse. Structures put in place making it harder to move. Color, outside the lines ? there is no room. The picture one imagines for themselves. Doom. Till Vroom. Stick through it, stay extra aware when you,” just do it”.

keeping track of the methods and designs. Read in between the lines. Soon to be a clearer more vibrant picture. Unmistakable to many, proof got plenty. Little left up to second guessing. Neon red bricks, It’s usually red. Wanting, the knowledge of knowing to be all over the rest of the book prevalent. Rarely used, fear kept up at night focused. Pleasure more often than not, denied. Bumps on the way, followed the plot to this spot. Second to final page of the book.

What did you learn ? What did you see ? After seeing the occupations in this coloring book, what would you like to be ?

Well gee. Someone who follows rules and directions, moves with precision and adds the right colors where they need be. A simple life, with a passive experience. That’s the one please. On the last page, I drew things never seen. Colored them nicely. This experience is mines now, the book nostalgic memories. No longer for me.

Out In The Open

Anything that leaves me hollow, satisfied and complacent.

misguidedly pour my faith in. Tried to replace it. Time, energy, effort, always in use. Never wasted. Resourceful, hard to forget like a fragrance. Placebo pill couldn’t really taste this. Whole lot of positivity enclosing some hate shit. Out in the open, the body belongs to the mercy of the people around you. Use or be used a choose that hangs over everyone since before birth. Use anyone who used me in a desperate attempt to keep my soul. Out in the open I must tread.

Fire On The Bathroom Curtains

How could this happen, The light popped. Sparked the whole thing.

Pitch black shadows rage about. A fire exist. As long as there is fire. There is something to burn. Smoke so heavy it falls down, thick fog of ash stuck to the floor. Mosquito bite bruises on my legs caused me to remember. Nostalgia for days when the bathroom light wasn’t so bright. A yellow hue. One closer to you my sun. Blocked by memories of how it all ended before it began. Only natural, vivid sensations, could almost take a bite out of the texture. Turn psychological problems for my splendor.

Just trying to bite into something a little less bitter. Pain became part of the solution. The ground won’t hurt while I uproot this parsley. They say vegetable are good for you. making up an analogy to explain why. Eating only slightly boiled broccoli, just going to assume if I’m eating and it hurts I’m doing something wrong. Any agitation, look towards, as if it was a location. First key patience, usually eat food easy to chew, had fun with food, humming a tune. With this right here, that’s what’s not to do. Slow chew, serious food. Realized there is no need to really dig in my tooth, Gotta grind the treasure loose.

No excuse, taste bud shocked, spoiled kid, tried to puke. Willing waste time, won’t get rid of the loot. Closed eyes follow through. Remember we are only eating broccoli. Breakfast before dinner, right after, the end of the world. Covered my feet. Rushed to the window. Opened, Fresh air rode in on the wind. Turn the pipes on right after I clogged the drain. Shower curtain embers, falling on the carpet. Paper towels catch the heat like a mosh pit.

Launch water from the sink. Honestly, situation was done in a blink. Always remind by the soot rink around shit. Actually mad. Shouldn’t have brought that light into my house in the first place. Damn shame. Not knowing the future is to blame. Got this blue sterile light on for a couple of seconds a day. Afraid the wiring might misbehave.

Bitches, hoes, Money and Woes

What did you forget?

Remembered. Only after, you’ve forgotten again. Memories moving in a geometric flow. Patterns explode. And there “I” go. Trapped in a Time capsule. Buried when ? Only the memory knows, never shows. Left with only a couple of words. Whenever told, sounds absurd. ” I’ve felt this before”. Only just touched down on the moon. It was an onion that put me in this mood. Cut of the ends, reveal the circles within. Symmetry, remove the skin. Only just the slightest cut. Tears flowing into ducts. Road ahead is still a must. Cleanly Sliced into two, put the halves back together, stuck like glue. No one would have knew.

Remind me, my other half is missing, A third of me gone. Down to two. First things first stay well slept, if you decide to mess with a bitch, that’s mad, she ain’t a hoe. Please forget the particular people that don this cloak. Like to be mad the moment, they are woke. Range from anything to a joke, or out of turn, someone, spoke. They lucid dream onto the scene, do anything to break that, you’re the one being mean. So I’ll set myself up, enjoy the rush nothing better than a reason to commit treason. Attitude change like the seasons. Close attention feel it coming. Even in a dream you don’t have full control.

Lost in this onion scroll. Dicing now, regain self control. Onion only just a minute ago used to be whole. Meant as a joke, the moment it entered the premises, the future became history. The onions that, only just, died here ? Ain’t no list for me. Finish, use the next one, to remember when the last one was whole, complete. What a feat put life on metaphoric repeat. Cut off the ends, reveal the circles within, scan top to bottom, the smallest circle out of symmetry. Forget the day you lived life like a hamster, a bump hit my ball, causing me to fall out and see.

Blinded by the broken glass, couldn’t read the situation. Hoes get to you, no capacity for patients. Even for myself. Always feeling sick. Love to chase the get well. Suit of armor for anyone who wants to live life at a faster pace. Understanding death is one of these days. Get to the goal literal race, no face to face on the go. Got to run up besides and see only half the face. Thank goodness I run backwards fast with grace. Practice running from problems putting the future behind me. Focused on the past, although from this far away everything looks so tiny. That ball was more than a home, everything I knew.

Whatevers in the way, be it pain. Cut loose. Cut one Cut two. Dicing. Almost through. Onion all exposed, multiple faces. Who they really are ? Can’t seem to know. Whole lot of nothing and it shows. Yet still love me some cubes. So much to know. More cuts, more parts of myself to be exposed. Lets not get lost on the road, 13 more onions to go. Cutting my way up the food pyramid. I want me a wholesome girl. Yet still refuse to cut the shit.

We got problems. I admit.