Every once in a while I wake up in a panic ďI havenít finished my English paper and itís due today!Ē ďI didnít tape my drumsticks and itís competition day!Ē Only to realize damn! itís been three decades
From that small dread comes a sigh of relief Iím forty-eight years old With more and more aches in my bones But also with some nostalgia The time seems to have gone by so fast
I look at the old year-book and wonder What happened him? Or her? Rest peace here I wonder what transpired there After graduation this...
It's with our libraries and teapots That we cultivate civility And marvel at concomitant thoughts In a land of both the brave and the free! It's how we spend our cloudier days, For in contemplation lay a story, And pots and books are the means and ways Of arriving at cerebral glory... Or something like the providential eye And the emanating beams thereof Which permeate our American sky With nothing less than our dreams of love, Showing the world that every day... Happy pursuits are the AMERICAN WAY!
You can smell them on my breath, all the words that have deliquesced And all that would dribble down my chinóthe ink, idioms, everything Sits now in the pits of stained teeth, stagnant and thin I might spin another thesis with frayed strings I might embellish these stiffened strands with rosemary sprigs I might reach again for the dictionary and beginó So I begin! And I begin . . . But then I digress
I watch her grow and then tear off her limbs for a man that doesn't love her right
Self realisation isn't always freeing when you're held under and told to suck it up because deep down he's a good man provides his family drinks too much spends all his free time in video games and doesn't understand sex is a two sided affair
And maybe she'd have left him if they didn't have a kid but there's stability in his job and it's nice not living in poverty though the psychological...
Somebody close to me is hurting. I don't know who it is or what has happened, but uneasiness has settled upon me. It's almost musicaló a quality I would enjoy under different circumstances: my nerves reverberate as though they have been plucked; my heart beats, drum-like and hard; soon my teeth might join in chattering in syncopation. I'm in a slow crescendo which can only be silenced when I hear that all is well, or fall into sleep, whichever comes first.
They live chaotic lives mine is boring in comparison though I don't mind living vicariously through them before going home to a white picket fence cliche that I've learnt to appreciate because I've been on the other side where every day is madness and I didn't give a shit whether or not I lived or died in any given moment every bad decision feeling like a good one at the time
I've earned this peace of mind I've fought for it lost friends for it left whole worlds behind just to hold on...
She grew up with a coffin as a coffee table knows way too much about guns loves bad boys who fuck like demi gods and hates being alone
She spends half her time stoned is a good mum with the patience of a saint can't cook anything that doesn't come out of a packet she makes chicken nuggets look like a gourmet meal and has asked me so many times to teach her how to cook though we never find the time
She's been clean 6 years now lost custody of her kid for being a meth head ...