#chilldhood
I asked my Father when I was young,
"Father I wonder who I'll marry one day"
He used to laugh with his beer belly hanging down, rough my hair,
And tell me
"Son you're a prince, you'll find a princess"
As the night turned I would go to sleep early excited for my dreams night by night
Hoping I would meet my princess soon.
When I was a teenager, I didn't breath a word,
At least most of the time.
On my eighteenth birthday I asked my father after I had a few too many beers,
"When do you think I'll meet that princess"
Whilst my smile was off-centred,
My father looked and said
"One day son, you're a fine man"
I went to go to bed, but my father said
"Son, another beer"
Pain in my voice of too much alcohol probably said it all.
"Erghh, I can't drink anymore"
So I went into my man cave and dozed off.
A few months after my 21st, I was outside,
Sitting on a garden lounger with a fire stick,
Prodding away with a cold beer in my other hand,
As the night progressed we had drank a pub dry,
We sat mesmerised at 3:00am by the flickering flames,
I turn and tell him
"dad, I think I've finally found the girl in my dreams"
And he asked me
"How can you be sure?"
So I replied
"Because, I've nearly drank that whole crate of beer and I don't feel tired, nor do I want to sleep. Because living in this moment, even if she's not here, even with her on my mind, knowing she's mine. That's better than any dream, you've ever dreamt".
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 7:45 PM UTC
We were flying down the turnpike
Taillights trailed behind us
The residue of our wings
We were angels then, out of our minds
Drunk on youth and envy
They called us troubled, but we were
Proud of our lives
We were turning into stories for our grandchildren
I remember
No one would admit it, but I wasn't supposed to be there
But all the laughter orbiting the car kept me safe
Though I was always in my head
The quiet one, that's what they call the old souls
Million miles away
They were ready to take over
They would end suffering with their naive ideals of a better place
Have the tired and ancient ones offer them the world
So they could rule it, destroy it, make it fitting for their royalty
And I took notes
Nice to have the memory of feeling invincible
If not angry
And afraid to sleep
More afraid to admit it
Because those dreams I had were always ending
Presenting me with daylight and ***** dishes
And the cold floors of strangers.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 12:02 PM UTC