Hit the brake pedals,
To let my legs stroll through.
Yeah, it was a red light,
But I can have them stop,
Even at a green light.
Everyone gets old,
Everyone gets mangled;
Corroded hearts and
Like Pearl Jam says,
I am MINE.
I know this sucks, it’s neither poetry or prose. But this is a venting platform for me and when absolute strangers say, good going, it pulls me away from the dark abyss. Thanks for reading!
The thumping pump we call heart,
Was ripped out, blood and all.
You cut me open.
I cried in pain,
Blue blue skies
Beautiful day on the avenue
I walk around, bleeding through eyes.
People stare and say,
You need to be sewn back.
The doctor is busy,
Asked me to come back later.
Which part should I bring along?
There’s a million little pieces.
Who is going to do the jigsaw?
When we all know the picture on the box,
Is not what’s inside.
No cocktail works,
The bartender shook and stirred;
I asked him to add a few of my ingredients.
He filled me a pitcher with an umbrella.
I said my goodbyes and sat by the water.
Dusk turned to dawn,
The pitcher was long gone.
I closed my eyes and dreamed of a fairytale,
The sun came up and seagulls started squawking.
I opened my eyes and saw the sun.
Cheeks dried, sand on feet;
I stumbled back to where it began,
With daggers in my heart,
And images an effigy burning.
I keep living, I keep dreaming.
My body is Wakandan.
It refuses to just give up,
When my heart and mind,
Have given up and asked me to drown.