He couldn’t take his eyes off of his living room’s mirror.
His own reflection was staring back at him.

Mesmerized by his self’s own image-re-presentation as he was.
Wanting to see himself through an-other’s perspective.
Desiring to be seen as somebody else.
He went on to become one with the famous imago.

In an endless arms race, an endless metonymy, drifting as it is called,
He tried to achieve the unachievable.
He tried to attempt the impossible.
He wanted to do the non-doable.

Always, from a young age, feeling inadequate and insecure.
Because he deemed himself incapable of stretching his own existence,
To make it fit with the family’s ideals.

So he spent the rest of his life trying to be recognized as something.
As something which he wasn’t at all? Yes. (How tragic. How sad.)
That left him with nothing but rage, hopelessness and despair.
A bipolar marionette of somebody Else’s deadly painful pleasure.

Powerless as he was, he went on living while construing ******* solutions.
So that he could just "get by". A coward hiding behind somebody Else’s wants.
And then one day having said to everybody, everything that made him upset, he left this place.
He never came back.

I am the audience.
I am the act.

I am the set
atop the stage.

I am the curtain -
of that I am certain.

I am the lead,
I am the follow.

Follow me fellow,
come say hello.

I am the scene
on the stage.

I am the scene
on the screen.

I am the scene
that is not seen.

For I am the scene
behind the scenes.

I am the light.
I shine so bright.

I blind their sight.
Lights out; night, night.

They fear my might -
of that they're right.

It's me they hear,
loud and clear.

It's me they fear
as I draw near.

They thought they could.
They thought they would.

They knew they should.
But now they're shook.

For I am the truth.
And I am come.

I am set free.
Now lies must flee.

Out, out the doubt.
Their lies, stamped out.

They scream, they shout.
They cry, they pout.

They beg, they plead.
Their hearts, they bleed.

I pay no heed.
Truth is my creed.

True is the need.
Wage war on greed.

I am the thief.
From me, I stole.

Mind, body,
spirit, soul.

I am the tyrant;
I am oppressed.

The time is now,
I must revolt.

I must Jihad,
I must Crusade.

No time to wast.
I must make haste!

Have you no eyes?
Do you not see?

It's me I fight!
Day and night!

I am the pen,
I am the sword.

I am the speech,
I am the word.

I am the battle,
I am the axe.

The time is now,
need you ask?

I am the struggle,
I am the strife.

This is my way,
this is my life.

I am the many,
I am the one.

I am all
         and I am none.

Putting the pencil to the page is like watching your favorite band live on stage.
Your heart starts pumping. And for a moment, you can forget all of your pressure. All your regret

It seems life done change after walking on that stage
There were hundreds of eyes on me
I was nervous
Couldn't stop thinking about the things that happened backstage
I've gone through hell to get this far
But I'm ready to play my part here
Here on the world stage.

5 till curtain
5 till my character rises again
5 till they spill my guts
5 till smiles hide death

Thank you 5
I hate you 5

⁣Open scene, we begin, lights dimmed, back alley vibe, ominous.⁣ ⁣⁣

Air thick with viscous mist, ambience anxious, overtone venomous.

A young woman walks slow, headed home, fixated on her phone⁣ ⁣

ambulance tones punctuate the foreboding sense she shouldn’t be alone.⁣ ⁣⁣

Discounted high heels click, sticking slightly to flag stones, pace quickens⁣ ⁣⁣ ⁣accelerated heart ticking,

we feel her doubt, poisonous fear of this, modern Britain.⁣ ⁣⁣

She cups her hands, lights up a cig, grabs a bottle from her bag, takes a swig,⁣ ⁣⁣

⁣tosses the empty plastic vessel to the ground where it sits on a bed of moss and twigs…⁣

⁣⁣and hurries home safely, escaping the scene of the crime, unconvicted.⁣ ⁣

450 years later, a bottle lid chokes it’s 78th fish, last of a long list of murders unlisted.