#stunted
She’s highness, deaf but not muted.
Still dignified, past perfect, but still pushing.
Withering tea addict,
laughs at her own sophisticated and immature jokes.
Farts.
How the highness gracefully descend.
Relaxed, reclined,
hands placed still on abdomen, yet they’re itching.
Noisy breaths lift her sinking body,
till she’s plastered to the bed,
not quite motionless.
Can’t decline.
Sits up. Peering, active, but stunted.
Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 5:43 PM UTC
I don't fear personal growth.
Emotionally.
Mentally.
Physically.
Financially.
In growth, I feel like I can find
my stability.
What I fear is being stunted.
Forgotten in the soil
never basking in
the light.
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 11:40 AM UTC
I kept my feelings locked up,
In letters.
Imprisoned by words.
Controlled by a choked up pen and a tear stained page.
Because I was afraid
I was afraid.
What others might think.
What others might say.
What others might not say.
In reflection,
My life was lived through fear.
Ruled by a tyrant with an iron fist.
But anyone can acknowledge
Their mistake.
How was I to move past fear?
To scale the walls that had protected me.
Made of bricks that I laid myself.
That I mortared together with animus
To keep everything out
To keep me safe.
But I started my ascent
Climbing brick by brick.
Passing one scribed with "Sarcasm"
Another etched with "Solitude"
And as I progressed
I passed others named,
"Laughter," "Humor," and "Feigned Interest."
Each one placed by my hands.
Each one now beneath me.
As I reached the summit of my wall.
Now was the difficulty.
Now this was my decision.
Pressure resting on me.
The effort it had taken to scale this brick fortress.
Was it in vain?
Had I wasted my energy.
Would I return
To the existence I had created?
Would I
Take Flight?
And soar to the ground,
With wings feathered with bravery and guile,
Vibrant in color and life.
Embracing both the sun and the rain.
Instead of passing on sunlight to avoid the possibility of precipitation.
All or nothing,
I told myself.
"If the definition of insanity is proceeding down the same road expecting different scenery,
You need to
Jump."
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 1:24 AM UTC
True to my nature I ****** up,
I gave in to my lesser desires, I gave up common sense.
I gave to the tide,
I went under.
As though in quicksand I sunk,
Thrashing,
Death throes.
I'm grasping at straws,
At snapped telephone wires,
Pulse distortion,
Just a touch away,
It's beckoning,
And oh so appealing.
What I wouldn't do for a little peace of mind.
Shocking!
Isn't it?
The attraction of interaction,
The constant presence or lack there of,
The desire, the distance...
Unsure of my footing I falter,
A newborn lamb, learning to hold it's own weight,
An adolescent, still learning.
Where did I go wrong?
How do I go right?
What option have I left?
Forever fearful,
Of what's beneath the bed,
Of what's in my head.
Are you leaving?
There's not much left to leave,
Running out of patience,
Running,
Nowhere to go,
Can't stop,
Can't stand,
Falling...
You are a sore thumb,
Pressed hard against my eye,
You blind me,
Unique in your affect,
Your image,
Branding,
Thoughts of you linger,
Ink stained fingers brush my eyelids,
And ink stains them still,
I see you in my sleep...
There aren't enough crystals in the world to cleanse this mind,
Nor enough bandages to keep the skin on these knuckles,
There isn't enough sugar to hide the bitter taste in this mouth,
There isn't enough,
This life is lacking...
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 12:43 AM UTC
A life sheltered and coddled,
A course of cowardice followed,
While the doldrums of yesterday
Are likely to echo tomorrow....
This cycle of idleness must be broken.
(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith
Originally written 3/13/14
Revised in 2014
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 5:33 PM UTC