Ah, Mesdames et Messieurs!
you 99% who number themselves
in the know-it-all category, the
largest subspecies of human animal,
fail to appreciate the vast eternal plan
that flexes & fluxes with gravitational
pulls and pushes, sunspots unpredictable,
can you ever predict the AM headlines?
have you checked your bank balance today?
always look both ways when crossing a one
way street, twice, just to be somewhat sure?
have you told you loved ones dryly and
routinely of your affections after every text,
emai, and even the most dreaded phone call
(tyou borrowed the car and left the tank on E)?

you’re an A+ student, prom queen, a cheerleader,
a high school football star, till you wrench that
knee because you were too busy admiring yourself
in the reflection of your selfie and didn’t notice
the open grate, the potholes or the orange cones
that appeared overnight, a cause for fright delight,

thank you so much for providing he fodder for this
pink sapphire of a poem, and please continue to
forget to utter your morn prayer to whatever God,
you entrusted your soul while sleeping, cause G. is
smirking at all the fun mishaps planned on today’s
agenda!

Is
you zipper open?
your blouse on inside out?
your metro card in the wallet
of your best friend who forgot
to return it?
What! you forgot bout the cheshire
grin on the Biology Prof’s face, when
he said “Anytime, Anyplace, surprise quizzes
are graded at 0, if you should  fail to appear at
your 8:00am class…

ah well, check your sneaker laces, try to recall
why that string is tied to your index finger or
take you chances of random probability that
having read this missile missive you’ve already
messed up and be careful our there, there are
very dangerous natalino poet~prognosticators
out there ready, william and able to take advantage
of  idiots who fail to be properly superstitious!!!

Salt, anyone?

Boy.
You are atrocious;
You are belligerent.
You cocky thing.
You disgust me.

Boy.
You are revolting;
You are untrustworthy.
You are not deserving of my time.
You are worthless.

Don't you dare come back to me.
I won't let you in.
Don't you dare try for me.
I can't let you in.

Boy.
You are idiotic,
Chaotic,
And the least exotic.

You are flour in the kitchen.
You are dandelions blowing in the wind.
You are useless.

You're the puppet now, and
I hold the strings.

You're the bell,
And I'm the freedom that shall ring.

You are nothing if I say you're nothing.
You're something until I give you something.

I created you.
I designed you.
I gave you life.

Don't you dare make me take it away.
Because, boy, I will.

No matter how many times
I burn my hand upon the stove,
I can’t help but be completely entranced by it’s radiant and beautiful glow.
And oh god, how I need the heat it emits so effortlessly.
While I gaze at it longingly,
wishing to graze my fingers upon
it gently,
I was never strong enough to not get burned.

I fail at persuasive entanglement
and negotiations almost masterfully,
as I try to strike a deal with whatever entity, or deity, that encompasses the life force around us.
“Show me a way,” I murmur,
pure exhaustion laced within what
passes for my voice today.
“If you can’t throw me a bone,
then throw me air; I swear it will suffice.”
Just once I would like to experience the gratification and overall relief and completion
at getting one of the few things I wished for in life.

And if it’s will sees it fit that I have neither bone nor oxygen,
then I plead that it atleast grants me the smallest grain of wisdom,
all within the right moments,
so that if life truly is circular versus linear,
that when I get pushed down the wrong path, open the wrong door,
and make life altering mistakes,
I can atleast try to gather the strength to force myself to prevent them.
So maybe one day, even a day repeated, especially a day repeated,
I might know what happiness feels like
when it isn’t artificial or ripped from my hands swiftly.
I held a soft grip once out of wishing to provide comfort, protection and love,
when maybe I should have been digging my nails deep,
and holding on for dear ******* life.