I was born with a baseball bat
in hand. I had walk-mans and dreams.
I had "Let's go to college"
I had "Shoot for the moon."
If I could travel back,
and tell that kid what to do.
"You wouldn't believe
the revolution coming for you. "
"Run. Get away. You'll never be free."
"There's nowhere to hide from these blinking lights
and these screens."
"Cherish your days of Summer in the grass.
Cherish those boring Monopoly nights."
"Technology is everywhere
And the Kid's Aren't Alright."
Today I wrote a song about your teeth.
They are crooked and imperfect.
Just like this. Our hands. And these
songbirds are all liars. We haven’t learned.
Flesh memory is overrated. Last night
I felt the linen, and it whispered to me
nothing. Not even the shape of you
reminds me of happiness. What is the use
of these metaphors if they can’t
beautify you anymore. No longer as fierce
as the inferno I allowed you to become.
Drowning in bedclothes, trying to understand how streams of consciousness
are becoming bodies of water. Today
I wrote a song about your teeth. And I
read it aloud to the voiceless, and now
they know what love tastes like.
The ghosts are hungry-
Feasting on the wide eyes that lay
Through the early mornings dark-
Hiding from the dreams-
Hunting memories tucked away
Beneath the comforts of their pillow cases
So they lay-
Warm to the touch-
Cradled by intent-
Through the dark ante meridiem
(C) Tiffanie Noel Doro
They told me once
That ignorance is bliss
And I never quite figured out
Exactly what that meant
But the older I get
The more I long to forget
That all hope has been lost
In this land of the dead
But, if you knew not
Your right from your wrong
You wouldn't question
Where you belong
You would see no difference
In this meaningless existence
For it's not until you actually know the truth
That it can begin to destroy you
Just like I
Now, with lifeless eyes
I know the lies
And I now despise
I understand what they mean
It is much easier
When you don't know
Shit about anything.