tap the vein
the very flow
a fizzle-POP
the gears whir

dry-eyed in the garage
suckling that oaky rind
spin the clocks
if so inclined

the mothers plead
but She still calls for you
repo the lung
the liver too

this sickly sweet memory
this one too many
this cool kid
strutting streets in denim jeans

--
c

Am I good enough?
No.

I tell myself that I am not good enough.
I'm not good enough for my art teacher,
I'm not good enough for my french teacher,
I'm not good enough to be recognised,
I'm not good enough for my peers.

I'm not good enough for my friends,
I'm not good enough for my boyfriend,
I'm not as good as my brother,
I'm not good enough at my passions.

How can I be expected to believe in myself
when I have always been told that
I'm not good enough?
Supported by the few times I have believed in myself,
I have failed and been completely crushed.

I have taught myself to fear failure.

I've lost a battle
Within my soul
My mind is unsettle
Forgot about my goal

Now trying to revive
To recollect and recall
The medium to survive
Before another fall

The pressure is intense
From my own peers
My heart goes in pretense
Hiding all my fears

Night brings in dark thoughts
To harm myself again with pains
Destined to fight these lots
But my hands are soaked with stains

Blood, it is mixed with ink
As I write on these walls
Drawing up my insanity link
That's when I heard the calls

Ambu sirens squeak the street
Someone rushes in my room
Gives me anesthesia as a greet
But time kicked me to my doom...


©sim

when everything is working against you it's hard to stand up. society and your own mind are like gravity ten times stronger than what you experience every day. all the predispositions and beliefs and your religion and your ethics cling to your wrists and your feet and they drag you down until your skull vibrates with pain. and all you can think is my country did this to me. my geographic location is killing me. and if only i were from here or from there or from thither or yon then where would be be? better. standing? maybe. i would like to think so. some say they know so. i'll never know though. your upbringing is a brace and a shape that you take and it's set before you birth. it's a gift and a poison seeping through your veins, controlling your hands and your feet to do the thing you're told is right and keeping at bay those thoughts that make you think things unacceptable to a crowd. well i say undo yourself. cut away those puppet strings and let them fly like ribbons from your free hands. they will colour your dance of independence and show the masses they are ***** and you will be an inspiration to all. just wait. if you fall you fall. maybe it will be worth it because you got to dance and they didn't.