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N Dec 2019

Christopher is utterly wrapped
within the cocoon of his own mind.

One can vividly see him
as he struggles with
understanding what
others think, feel, and believe.

Therefore, his self-identity,
his idea of himself,
is practically the same as his
sense of the outside world.

Unlike everyone else,
Christopher does not seem to care
about being identified by other people.

He prefers to spend his time by his lonesome,
it somehow keeps him more connected with
reality which is something he struggles with.

Christopher is quite an observer,
he views the world
in a distinct, but a unique way.

Christopher never uttered the word father,
for it was heavy on his tongue,
like heavy rain on a bleak midnight.  

His mother loved him, or
ruined him and called it love.
He cannot tell the difference
between these two things.

So whenever he loved someone,
he’d unintentionally break their heart,
and utterly ruin any chance of love.

Christopher beloved was
in the shape of a knife,
so he used her to write this story.
The gushing blood was his ink,
and the tears were his last silent screams
A short story.
Precious Navarro Jun 2019
What’s crazy but sensitivity deeply hidden?

He wants to dance but laughs instead, comedy killing?

He loves to love but hides under hulk like behavior,

So up and down, whatever direction he goes he’ll stay as under cover lover,

He’s called Christopher.
Maybe I was just supposed to meet you
The -ship we have
I forced upon us
Upon you

When I step away
You remain still
When I stop
You fade away

This was me this whole time?
That doesn't matter now!
It is early, still...

Magicians are:
Rulers of destiny Masters of will
Their fate is theirs to determine
through their own power

Magicians are never in love

Love obeys no command
Love is stronger than...
Love is more important than one could ever be
Love hates magicians

© Christopher F. Brown 2018
I’m not here to make you feel comfortable, safe, or secure
I’m not here to give a ****, a like, or a ****

I am here because I am
Whatever that means that is up to me
you don’t get to Define any part of that or me

You don’t get to stumble across my path looking down at screens
Then feel, mad, sad, or whatever way you feel when I will not be moved

I am here because I am
Whatever understanding I gain it’s through my study in solitude or syndicate
You don’t get to instruct or borrow from any part of my lesson(s)

© Christopher F. Brown 2018
Objectified Self

the only thing you bring to me

You challenge my thoughts
You force my feelings
You invoke my emotions

I have to create contingency plans
Because of you

I have to keep a distance
Because of you

Because of You
have to rearrange too much of Me

I cant **** you

I can only war with you
the only thing you bring to me

© Christopher F. Brown 2018
I am not done yet
I have not passed on

My back may hurt
it still moves

The sloth in my movement may be caused by pain
Id rather feel pain than not feel

My heart may be tough and leathery
it is not cold
it is not stone

My laughs are deeper

My love is harder

When I do speak
it is often low

there is no need to shout
there is no need to comment on everything
every thing is not my concern

What I have
is knowledge

What I know
is how to filter information

© Christopher F. Brown 2018
He is Fire
Fire like mine

Fire I could have been
Fire I should have been

Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda

He didn’t waste time
He didn’t waste his fire

looking for love
in clubs
in gyms
Everywhere in-between

He didn’t waste time
He didn’t waste his fire

getting his heart broken
getting cheated on
deferring his dreams for a fantasy crafted by others

He let his fire shine and burn
I hid mine away
the only heat felt from mine was by proximity
the only light that shone from mine was in comparison to shadow

He would never be like me
His fire is not like mine

He is smart enough to not bother with things that would take away
He is smart enough to protect his fire from the water
He would never fall in love with it

He is
not me

His fire is
not mine

His fire is

His fire is not as hot as mine
He can selectively burn with his
mine can only be contained by that which would try to destroy it

I don’t regret me
I don’t regret my fire
that is not the point

I want to protect
his fire

The way no one protected
my fire

© Christopher F. Brown 2018
Never been to Mars
Never allowed myself to loiter
On A street I did not belong

Seems Ive only ever met
The many multitudes of grown boys
children really
Claiming to be men

They are good for
Were good for
Childish things

What else can a child do but think of games
What else can a child do but play
What else should a child do but think of themselves

I think I'd like to go to Mars
Maybe even the Moon

Any place

Seems like it would be better than this street I live on
It sometimes seems like an adult playground
All the children around here

Never seen Mars
Maybe the Moon

© Christopher F. Brown 2018
If the Messiah they need is a woman
Convince them only men are holy.

If the Messiah they need is black
Convince them only white is holy

If the Messiah they need is same gender loving or non-binary
Convince them only heterosexual is holy

If the Messiah they need is proud
Convince them only humility is holy

If the Messiah they need holds knowledge in their left hand
Convince them the right hand is holy

If the Messiah they need has a ten point plan of righteously defending one's self
Convince them that the only holy answer is nonviolence.

If they ever one day happen to believe that they can define:
By Self
Through Self
Of Self
Convince them that holiness is only attainable through a message and belief of:
Holy and selective Prosperity
Holy and selective Favoritism
Holy and selective

If they ever happen to look in the mirror and one day love all that they see
Convince them that the holy standards of beauty deems every and all that makes them what they are ugly

If they ever happened to one day realize that the Messiah that they need is within all of them as a United People
Convince them that the holy Messiah can only lay in one person per generation and then publicly assassinate the person that they believe
Or you have chosen
To be their

© Christopher F. Brown 2018
You've found that hole in your soul
Nothing fills it

The smallest things
Seem smaller

The largest things
Seem smaller still

Why won't anything fit
Why won't anything fill

You've found that hole in your soul
Nothing fits it

Its not like its a predator
The things it consumes
You've already forgotten about

Silently it exist
Taking only what you've sacrificed through neglect
Taking only what you've left to languish

It would be better if it was a hunter
If it was taking
Then you could remember
Then you could

© Christopher F. Brown 2018
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