honk honk

my voice echoed through the vacant corridor
my words amplified through the metallic mesh of the mic
my syllables accented as my mouth developed the shape of speech
my letters admired by the readers who never failed to narrate
p.s.
the tone of speech is a definition on its own
period

maybe we can share,
this troublesome feature known as a dare
i dare us to pull out all our hair
give it to cancer victims who's medical side effects scared

the petrified and kept them shook
right now i feel as still as an inukshuk
hard rock and chiseled features
for sure that cheerleader would admire me from the bleachers

so bleach my hair and then let nature pigment my skin
for brighter shades may cause me to shed this exoskeleton of a tin

what good are wings to a butterfly which cannot emerge from its cocoon
what good are radios to someone who is incapable of hearing
what good is sunlight to a plant which lacks chloroplasts
what good is chocolate to a mouth infested with cavities
what good is empathy to a serial killer
what good is $5 to a millionaire
what good is a brick to a foundation made of wood
what good is a blocked number

the wings are an embellishment
the radios are silent frequencies
the sunlight is a spotlight
the chocolate is a reminder
empathy is the cure
$5 is a charitable cause
the brick is furnishment
it is a reason to move on

what good is negativity
it is a reason to promote positivity

i do not empty my wallet this day or dive into my bank account
because the time i spend with you is priceless
i do not buy you roses or chocolates as a gesture of my affection
because you will understand that when you are blanketed in my arms

i cry because i cannot see you do to unlikely circumstances
the verdict says go downtown and find another to release your masculine desires upon
but i desire none other than you

tonight you are the one who holds my heart...you are also the one cutting off its circulation
but with every pulse you are not aware of
just know nothing can beat this feeling
and only one of us can feel this beat

i play guitar because it expresses what i cant
it's second nature and i love it
the notes are words and i just choose the words to phrase my sentence
it cries in high pitches and growls in the bass
my strings don't break but communication barriers do.
i like being technical because it's a unique appeal
it has variety

i'd cry for help but these days i can't cry
i'd ask for your assistance but it seems like i'm losing my voice
i'd go to the clinic but it seems that all the appointments are booked
i'd take pills.......NOOOOO i don't medicate
i'd move out of harms way but i'm too petrified to do so
i just realized my actions are harms way.
i'm not going to run away from my self