Fight back, how the body reacts. Took a step back. Looked at the situation holistically. Now I can relax. Someone just wants attention. Your name is their mouth however, the insecurities unmentioned. Relentless, defenseless caught in the tension. Asked this question, is it me or will anyone do ? What’s the premise. A story now deploying because, said accuser’s life is boring. Of course you feel powerless, when in life emotions take a back seat and ego does all the touring. Easily satisfied, hunger never gratified. A stomach will ache on a bowl full of lies. Hype yourself up and live off the high. Grow old, never alleviate the little kid inside. Too big to cry. Too smart to try. Too cool to feel anything other than fly. Breakdown on the inside. Life inherently not fair. So you feeling some sort of pain every here and there. Too hype to care. Pieces of you left everywhere. Get it together man, face your fears. Matter of fact step here, if you think you don’t care. I’ll show you how much I don’t, smile in your face, snap a bone. Better yet I’ll scar you with a couple of words in this tone. Mommy / Daddy can’t talk right now. I’m on the phone. Go play somewhere else.
Oh no here we go, all this energy expended, nothing to show. Pores opened, sweat exposed, walked down a straight line death row. Left behind a trail of flowers, bloomed, where in the ground imprinted my big toe. This is the route for the next prisoner to go. Live to die, came just to go. live to die, came just to go. No circle of life here, evidence knows. Truth be told, even the dead petals won’t put any nutrients in the soil. Death in dry spades, lost opportunities for shade turn the landscape one dull shade of gray. Live to die, it doesn’t work in the reverse way.
Tear drop falls into a pool of water, ripple effect. A calm, alertness. The human body is mostly comprised of water. The feeling of someone talking directly to you. Almost through you. ” What’s he going to say next”. Nothing else matters expect that. Next few seconds listen intently in fact. Tunnel vision, know where I gotta go. Well known, what I gotta do. Driven down this road before, focused on distractions in the rear view. This time the ride down is accompanied by a water drop. ” Wasn’t crying, only one tear got away”. Ways to deny the fact you’ve reached your lowest point. Stead fast to the bottom.
Lower than your boot. This pain, shame, weighing heavy on the brain will take root. Tear drop soaked into the ground and hit’s roots. Inflections get deep. Reaches parts of you unknown and unseen. Never Remembering that in complete darkness, better yet the absence of light. Everything is everything, not a single difference in sight. Nothing. Inside I felt nothing at the time, certainly better than something.
” I’m tired of feeling so empty, so used, mistreated, confused, suppressed urges to lash out, be rude”.
Swore to never be that type of dude.
Realizing promises are formed with either or intentions. To be broken or to be kept. My intentions, where to smash their faces in and have them slept on. Lifeless bodies, unrecognizable only mothers wept on. Sometimes you have too, let yourself get upset. Up to the challenge I must step, how can I get mad when, Promises to myself are un-kept. Two drops in the water, twice as alert, slightly unsettled. Water starting to boil in a kettle.
Tired to cover my heart with metal. No in, No out. Air and liquid still made it in, water in the dirt never hurt. Almost time for the roots to give birth. Impatience is the worst, lesson I’ve rehearsed. Still don’t quite get it. Forget it, pretend to get the mind off things, ohh how that brings you right back to square one. We stay here like it’s fun, done, out ready to run. Three tears drops are a pattern, after the third another six more will come. Speaking directly to me now.
Extremely unsettling, more life threatening. Armor around my heart is coming undone. No longer peaceful. Kettle, heat filled. Pridefully steams out, scream out. Ran outside with red eyes. Everything sucks but, not enough to cry about. Temporarily run away from home. Leave behind everything. Sadly this is a metaphor for the body. Won’t happen unless one becomes godly. What ended up happening is me running a couple blocks. Thinking something along the lines of unfair. I don’t care. Even this far I still hear the kettle on the stove. Since it’s mines, no one else knows.
Do you hear that ?
Not quite, what do you mean ? The bird humming ?”
Lol probably someone’s phone.
My problems always seem tame in comparison. Stand on the street corner unable to decided the time. I should self sacrifice to the garrison. Even when low, you can still get lower, I wish tomorrow will come a little bit slower. I know life isn’t fair however, when other people go out of their way to make things worst, the troll it takes on your soul happens gradually. The same way I do what I gotta do, so I can stay me and be happen, is the same way I gotta let other people do what they do, even if their outcome and intentions effect my life drastically.
One question came to mind when I learned my lesson. Would you rather build or destroy ? Impatience tested my creditably. Be the best possible version of myself. Silly me the completion was always me. So I walked back home, open the door and locked it behind me. I’m not going anywhere, until I can deal with all of my problems and still sleep soundly. Attack me if you will, devour it all, while staying unaffected. Profoundly.
Still amazed our high-school prom is on the roof. Renovations 3 years in the making finally complete, last week. The school staff were itching to put money, ill-advisedly spent into action. Too bad the principal who set this is motion wasn’t here to experience it. The vice principal took her place. The first graduating class to experience this, best believe entitlement flew through the roof. The student body president who graduated last year, set up a construction help comity injunction with school staff and union workers. Hoping they might bear the fruits of their labor. Safe to say this opportunity was made specifically for us. The venue is more modern that 740 park ave in Manhattan. Even students who didn’t plan on going are changing their minds. Picture this Derek who skips school, got expelled and living with his single mother of 4. Took up a part-time job to make enough money in time. Spot light now mines, red and blue lights, shine. Stilettos and shoes dance on marble floors. Music vibrated out of them upwards into the stars. Suits no ties, well dress, watches and gold necklaces about 150k worth of clothes and accessories alone, in here. Crowds to swim through. Pale in comparison as I walked over to the one that said yes. My one and only chance to be here.
Without her, wouldn’t want to be seen here. She turns around awkwardly. Just the same as me. Here, she isn’t meant to be. The glamor indoctrinated us. This place is something out of a palace. Almost good enough to exalt us. Glowing skin, platinum engraved ring, hair in an Afro, untouched. Echoing steps silence my heart as I walk to her, I’ve been chasing a dream for a while. The color red never looked so good, she didn’t even dress to impress. Although music is the obstacle keeping our minds apart. Body language chained our hearts together. 5 steps away. Felt her hear race, finally no longer alone, a recognizable face. Smiles, face to face, I’m thinking what she’s thinking now, feeling what she’s feeling.
I can’t help but, stare at him head to toe. Never Seen him so well put together. Standing out even in this atmosphere. Took his sweet time to walk to me, probably just as nervous as I am. I want to hold his hand. Looking deep into eyes that are looking deeper into me. Before I had a chance to say it he’s already reaching for my finger tips. Always gently aggressive. The way he reads my mind, impressive. Suppose to be home tonight catching up on sleep. How did I let him get to me. To think we would be here. The road unclear forcefully going down memory lane as he pulls me to dance.
As long as I can remember people counted on me. Not sue what is was but, took on responsibility comfortably. At eight cooked the food on my family’s plate. Ten went to the senior center to visit my grandma, months later ended up volunteering. Fourteen all my home girls inspired to be me. Fifteenth champion of the debate team. Seventeen freelance writer for a magazine. Now at eighteen so much depends on me. Never free, trapped by obligations. Worst yet not to many people who understand me. Put up on a pedestal or lassoed to be dragged down. Hard to express myself even when writing. Forced to be everything I’m not. Just wanted to help, sadly it feels like no one can help me.
Then us meeting came to be. I put my head on his chest, he moves it to where his heart beats. My spirit released floats up to watch us dancing. Nothing more than a slow rock back and forth. Only enough attention for a tiny circle. Everything else turns to nothing expect for whats under the spotlight. With you I am at peace, floating a bit off my feet, melt my stress. Open heart confessions. I hate the things closest to me. If you know that you know me and he knows me. What’s on his mind. Look up to him as he’s turning his head. what is he looking at. Ms. Bethany smiling.
Aww youth, look at my favorite student. I don’t know who the young man is but, I’ve never seen her so relaxed. I guess life really does happen out of know where. When everything came crashing down. Ms. Bethany watched over us. We were the first to go. When summer comes, the sheet of ice over the lake cracks as it melts. The roof of the building unstable, under the weight of the students, teachers, chaperons, equipment, tables, food, chairs, granted and marble, it fell.
Turns out the money ill-advised spent meant, that they simple underestimated the project. The student comity was formed to help with constructed under pressure of the principal under pressure from investors at the board of education. Doesn’t matter now. We are all falling weightless. They say during times of crisis true characters have no choices but, to show themselves. Even as falling glass, chunks of rocks cutting my skin underneath my suit, both of my eyes stayed locked onto you. Eleven stories, seven more to go. For the future no hope. Red and blue lights, stilettos, shoes, lobster, crab, champagne and blood. Music still played as we fell. Suits no ties, watches and gold. Mangled limbs, lifeless bodies. In this moment, the last one before we go. Astonish by how you too, never took your eyes off me. Three stories left. Glad I had one last chance to pull you close and smile. Face to face. In life I always second guess the people who say they love you. Right now it’s unquestionable. I see the reflection of me looking back at you, in your eyes. One story left. I don’t want to die.
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.