I had this notion of wanting
to be more like oldself–
not more like myself, because myself
has become too sad and too hurt;
I remember oldself being so much more.
But where does one look for one's oldself?
It's not like I just hanged it out to dry
or hung it up on the wall next to a poster.
No, oldself has been scattered and beaten,
tossed along the path of nostalgia.
Bits of oldself linger among
sketchpads and sneakers, SEGA
and Lego sets and Star Wars.
It's back there with s'mores and scouts
and bonfires and books and
the belief that the big, blue world
was a place where dreams came true.
Oldself thinks that optimism
is the only option, myself makes a
note to self: that matter mostly
isn't true, as a matter of fact.
I can't always see oldself, it's buried
beneath six feet of dirt, gossip and rumors;
there's tons of stress and anxiety weighing
on its chest, dressed in a halcyon suit.
Oldself never used to worry
like myself does so often nowadays
but he also couldn't sing like myself can.
He had a wilder imagination than
myself could ever conceptualize,
yet I've exceeded so many of the dreams
that oldself had for my future self.
I often think to myself: what would
Oldself think if Oldself met myself?
And although I may not have turned out
exactly how Oldself envisioned myself,

I've grown and learned from Oldself
and now I'm proud of myself– a place
that my old self never thought I would be.

I know just where I'm going
And what I have to do
I’ve looked into alternatives
And discovered what is true.

I've got my mind made up
I'm in possession of the facts
I recognize the pitfalls
And how confusion acts.

There is a higher road
And I am going to take it.
I am going to change my course
And I am not going to fake it.
I’m going to speak my mind
If I am ever really asked.
I will tell the honest truth
That will train me for the task.

It took a very long time
For me to get myself here.
I had to stiffen my resolve
And face up to my fears.

I had to choose between
Pretty lies and hard reality.
I had to let illusion go;
Let truth be the best for me.

I’ll take the higher road
And I am going to take it.
I now have changed my course
And I refuse to fake it.
I’ll welcome those people
Who love me who I have become.
I will tell the honest truth
Let that be my rule of thumb.

I take breaths in moments with no pain.
But I've come to understand that the absence of pain is not the presence of peace.

Parched skin becomes moist
With dew drops dripping down the back of my neck
And beneath my *******

My face deepens like a ripe peach
As flesh disappears
Skin dissolves into

                                 Nothing.

A cool exterior warms
And my body is tingling, trembling,
Buzzing like a thousand fire ants
Swarming around my thighs
My arms
My core

Encapsulated in sweat,
This shell is a temple
One that thrives on progress

I am *****

I am filthy

I am strong.

If you check every moment
On the progress you make in life
You'll notice nothing

and miss everything

So you do you
Look back after a while
And be surprised by the life

*you lived

Children of today,
will never know what it is like to use a pay phone,
as one tries to find a quarter.

Kids today,
shall never know what it is like to embrace the mystery
of who is at the other end of a call.

Children of today,
will never know what it is like to get ones anger out
with a slam of the phone instead of pushing a button.

Kids today,
will never know what its like to not text
and have to call someone when they get home.

Children of today,
will never know what it is like to drive with paper directions
as one juggles to read their own writing.

Kids of today,
will never yes never know what it is like to savor a real hug or kiss
from a friend instead of a emoji.

Children of today,
will never know what it’s like to look eye to eye
and talk to family members at restaurant
instead of looking at phone to keep busy.

Sadly,  thats progress, until we wake up and smell the coffee.


StarBG © 2017

Laughed at this life
Weird then prospering
I've been through worse
Haven't been to the worst
So, thanking my Lord
Is my heart made of rock?
When your words melt
These veins try to gain
My only person in me
True to my affections
Who am I to judge?
I caused troubles myself
You rolled your eyes
Hesitated, feeling disgust
Not another one - I wrote
I write my heart to the crowd
For you to know me
Know I'm just a dead meat
Another experiment of God
To test my patience and tractability

We're like a train,
You and me,
Chugging along,
As people ride with us,
Until they get to where they're going.

And once we get there,
They leave us,
Because they are finally okay
With being by themselves.