Personal enough to ask off this ride, Thoughts seeping out that I usually hide. Call it pride and say that you're over it And I'll still air it out until I'm over with. I'm years past done with concealing. These days, with pen in hand If I'm sitting alone, just say "He's dealing" And abstain from future page peeling. Lord knows I've done my fair share anyways. Paranoia settling in on my bad days When I refused to talk but had words to say While you were busy working on a new display. That's when stomachs start churning Over discoveries concerning people I wouldn't grab the hose for If I were there when they were burning. Learning the extent of interaction: Actions motivated by ill fated passion. The traction it provides is deadly. So I shy away if you previously led me.
Desire the provider For those fashioned as liars And the cloak will itch And the eye will twitch And the lip will quiver And it will deliver. Eminent acceptance against futile resistance complete with quarters closed around distance. All in the feelings, Months since the reeling And the last thoughts before rest Hang from this ceiling. My reflections clumped together Reminiscent of wet tissue bring me to a point where I begin to examine every issue.
Is it honestly a trust issue If I only trust God? What about the lust issue? What if fate just missed you? What if faith isn't enough? Does a wraith appear and such; Telling us to go ahead Just because it's getting rough? Is there something rude about fortitude? I have so many questions And even though we earn the answers, we never really want the lessons Until forced to face depression and hardship borne of transgression. Truth will run rampant like infection Through those trying to avoid detection.
A grain of salt for those Who "know that I won't get to Heaven." Can't hide their faults; Especially if they know nothing of number seven And we're all far from completion, But we love to compete when Questioned about our faith. No challenge or dire straights. Not rubbing it in your face. Not stating any demands. Not looking to alter plans. Just wanted to understand How things that affect the family And eventually the home Can lead to headline tragedies when some are left alone.
Some couples still feel alone: Married by tradition But marred in their willingness to spar; Steeped in their war of attrition. Recalling times when I would listen To words from family members. I wondered if they were still smitten Or if their hearts were ever tender. Aunt would say she wants a man that stands strong But turn around and disrespect any man that chose to stand alone. Uncle fashioned himself as a king upon his throne but if womanizers rule, one would section off his zone.
I see a little of myself in my relatives. Some of it I'm proud to have. The rest I'd love to give back. Struggled to keep myself intact But I'm demure amid my peers. Learned to conceal fear And absorb those tears Before I grab my gear And I think but never look twice When it comes to my vice. Agitated but speaking nice When friends ask me for advice. I'd like to reciprocate. I want that shoulder to lean on; But when treated as magistrate, it gets hard to acknowledge peons. Not peons for my means of advancement But for their willingness to ignore What I swore I said before. Do you listen anymore?! Do you care that I implore or just like to hear me talking? If I reach deep in your core, then I'm sure you'll just start walking.
I've got more to say. Kept my ink pen steady. Just open up a window if the atmosphere is heavy. The air is thin and therapeutic. Listening to music and breathing hard Both from my lack of oxygen And because I'm thinking hard. Swore I'd never play this song again. Barely friends. Just some things. Can't remember when. It was just a fling. I can't eat these lies. Eyes well and my heart still swells. Some days in paradise are pure hell. Our past in my face with a fast pace Grazed with grace and I can still trace Every single moment. Sitting here alone with Contrition and atonement That I wish you would've given. Don't know how much is forgiven But at least we're both still living. Privy to precious moments in divinity And our favorite unspeakable obscenities.
That's what remains of our memories. Two pages in and I'm lost again. Might just take a break And pick up the pen after. Documented the smiles And reminiscences over laughter. Went through all the wiles And anger that I've splattered. I'll keep this book open. I need to add some chapters. A clear vision of the sky Hangs high above the rafters. If the ceiling is made of glass, Then it will surely shatter. Just sit my notebook to the side. I still have some life to gather. †