Let's start it over… BANGER.

Wednesday, October 17th, 2012

Let's start it over…  BANGER.

I watch the speakers blow inches away from my face.

Feels like a Glock, readily pointing, with a shaking hand at my face

As my teary eyed, impatient, non-coward self grills back my bottom teeth grinding

Across the top.

"I wish my could start over", that's what they all say, but what

Would you like me do from the womb? 

Maybe die? Maybe suicide and wrap an umbilical cord around my throat, I'm sure I've tried that

But hey, Hey Dad, here the fuck I am and NO I'm not on fucking drugs

For once, It is not I, but you

How are all those pains treating you?  

How is that wondrous La-La-Land ???

How is your hair loss?  Keep painting it.

I'm sure it will grow, I promise you, it will grow-the chemo ain't shit, it will grow

Look at mine.

I am the one who is most like you.

Fortunate?  Am I?  Or-

Are you?

We are both fucked for wanting so much 

From one another-

Knowing we are the same shit we are, we will

Never be what we want because we are never satisfied with

Ourselves.

It can grow.

We want to cut it bald.

If we are bald, why the fuck did God fuck us so hard?

Thanks for your lessons in life.

Never can I love anyone, not even- 

My damn self.

It hurts too much to let go of some stupid armor that keeps us "going" in

that brutal fight that happened years ago

Sometimes I wish to let the shield down, allow the others arrows

To puncture through me, feel the pain, as

I fall from my strong horse that heeds and yelps out

aloud, as if feeling it's owners pain.

Don't cry baby, momma's going somewhere, somewhere 

where it has to be better than this place.  I hope 

your next owner treats you with all kindness and hasn't already had an arrow stuck in their

heart, not allowing it to love you as you should be.

Take care, my Noble Steed.