there was nothing.

I threw tantrums when I was a man.
I made petty what others made big. Big is small.
I stroke my luck and drove love. Can’t take your foot off that pedal.
I thought from a different position
my perspective might have changed.

I was an egomaniac in my adolescence.
I took things to heart and gave mine away. Carelessly for fidelity’s sake.
It made me rust. Had me hating.
Waiting.

In my teens I had promise and belligerently wide eyes.
A numskull with a tiny secret, perhaps. Lust and glory.
Mostly, glory.
I hadn’t forgotten the price of living, yet.

My childhood was an ignorant mess of deceptions and honest pleasures. Punching bag of bullies’ gym.
Wake up and smell the roses you’re eating.

Of my infancy I remember little.
A face. Fingers. Blurry vision. Milk and water.
Gag reflex.
Little did I know I was walking into a shit show.

Before this,