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What I needed
Was to be me.
The child I am,
To give him what he needs.
To love,
To be loved.
To laugh at life's calamity,
To slap a thigh at its slapstick.
To not get in its way,
To not step aside,
To be with it.
As me.
I needed to be me.
I need to be me.
More a collection of thoughts than poetry, but hey.
The clouds still remain and the sea still crashes to shore. I don't know how I wrapped myself up for so long. I almost forgot the feeling of sunshine on my skin, the weird satisfaction of seeing your breath in a winters mist. I forgot these things because I simply had no space for them. I held so tightly to the things you said my own voice began to fade. I've missed you everyday since. I realized I became nothing more than a person trapped in a photograph to you. I could have been anyone on that day and that wouldn't have changed a thing. So today I will I dig a hole on the beach and sleep beside it. I will allow all the beautiful memories to leave my head one by one as I dream of them. They will eventually settle inside the sandy hole I've dug for them, and wait to be swallowed by the tide. I will awake tomorrow without knowledge of your existence and I will begin to remember myself.
A church is in ruins
A holy place defaced
You were alone, a lie
Among the living, walked
Like a statue made of gold

Lost in the former
Gone out with the tide
All that was worth fighting for
Gone now, died

Waves lap at the shore like angry thrusts
The lights of the city wave like a *****
The wind, a stranger
The kids all board the school bus
Lacking pity, empathy formless

They say you might find what you are looking for
A ballroom dance sang loudly to the ceiling boards
Nonsensical words that come streaming out
The taste in my mouth, the sound when I shout
I wonder what it is that you are looking for
Gold, wine, success, money, fame
All these prizes delivered at the end of this sick game

Run to the lights of the city
Pass the moments for which most pray will transpire
Hire a carrier, command the world from your throne of foresight
For, in hindsight, maybe this was not such a good idea after all
Perhaps, it is only human for us to trip
For us to fall
My fault, not yours
Erase it all
The struggle of an Arts Major
62

“Sown in dishonor”!
Ah! Indeed!
May this “dishonor” be?
If I were half so fine myself
I’d notice nobody!

“Sown in corruption”!
Not so fast!
Apostle is askew!
Corinthians 1. 15. narrates
A Circumstance or two!
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