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Feb 2016
Sometimes I stay up all night cleaning
And when it come 3 and 4 AM I think more clearly
Cause collective consciousness shuts way up
When everyone around me's sleeping

It's called the witching hour
When I finally get the ground below my feet to stop moving
And I can see that I've just been busy proving
I'm enough!
Or maybe not...

And my broomstick tries sweeps my past away
Till I'm remembering that its no tangible thing
Yet I live like back then they cursed me

Like every moment I don't have the ruby slippers
To click my heels right back

To now

This moment
It's all we really have
Yet inside our heads we live in future and past
Like this idea of me that was there
Will undoubtedly be there tomorrow

But a meteor could be only seconds away
To wipe us clear off of this planets face

And how the hell do I win this race
With all these definitions they gave me to carry
And this closet of clothes they think define me
I keep purging and redesigning

Imagine if we saw souls not bodies
Our definition of beauty would be
What?
Not something just comprised by constructs built by society
In which we buy into

Seriously…what the **** is beauty?
Everywhere we go it shifts shape completely
Morphing with each place and time
Just look at fashion over centuries

So what makes all our ideals seem so true?
How bout we stop with the seeing
and start hearing what the skin bags are saying
What are they committed to?

**** then maybe it's the words I said that comprise me
That I didn't even mean when they came out of me

And look at that!
I just brought myself back there to then
In the time machine inside me head

And so I keep staying up through the night
To wash the crap that builds up on my mirrors away
Calling up the past to finish the mending that I gave up on
And magically the spell is being broken

The wicked witch is under the house it's true
But instead of making an excuse and stealing her shoes
I call her sister to say I'm sorry

All my reasons are what I'm clearing
Justifications and excuses
That keep me smaller than my circumstances

Me-
The call and response stimuli machine
Calculating how best to survive

Is this threat I perceive
One where I run
Or one where I bare my teeth

Yet we don't see that today and tomorrow are still living out yesterday
But in 100 years will ANYONE remember what happened to you on that day?

Seriously, it's time to hose down the pigsty in your mind
Get down on your knees and scrub that **** clean
Cause your reasons for being the way that you are
Get old
They start to mold and stink the room up for the rest of us

Taoism speaks of constantly letting go
Lau Tzu wasn't talking about a garage sale
What's bogging us down
Is the **** we make up and let run our lives
But to us it's the truth and its real

But we don't live like that

To live right now
Like there's no someday to go to
Like this is the practice round and I'm just warming up
For my real life
The one where I'm gorgeous, and rich, and everyone loves me.
The one where I have a perfect childhood!
Oh wait… that's completely absurd

But it certainly doesn't feel like we're living like that
When the dramas of our lives seem so significant
And we give them permission to keep our dreams from coming alive
Aborting what's possible the second it sparks into being

Reasonable living is suffocating your happiness
And that's not just going to change

You little dust speck
You minuscule blob of atoms that will soon evaporate
In an infinitely expanding universe

Now
What are you creating?
  
E. Poe
February 2016
Elsbeth Poe
Written by
Elsbeth Poe  California, USA
(California, USA)   
716
 
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