You once asked me what is it that i see when i'm looking out, with my mouth hung open and all these words that don’t come out. I don't know where to start,to tell of the multiple stories that palpitates my heart from the bulletproof current that keeps my body curled up and my head cocked up. Everything about the brilliant blue renders me speechless, eek.
I was raised with the east river 500 ft away, i’ll turn over from bed to tilt my head over the pier, awaiting the sun to twirl my body into reflective diamonds chasing shadows over and under, hugging the wooden poles, gliding my hands as close to the ripple water that my little fingers will allow while dreaming of the earth underneath my feet.
And then the stories begun, what happened happens. A wild child, I was already too afraid to love too madly. The sea speaks and I’ll listen to the grumbling stomachs of a rainstorm, the pitter patters of a snowday, the vast lonliness that continued after and before the happiness was to begin and cease, repeatedly I saw the world drown slowly by this wrath. And there was never enough of a good moment for me to express all I saw, there was no one to share with, no one that I could relate with. So i always admired from afar from such close distance. And my mind rambled on and on as my heart crumbled and crumbled. Then the war....
of spoonfed sugar melting into disgust,broken gin bottle shards lit up into nightly bon fires, scraping the callowness out of our smoky skin, and what you see inside a world of star dusts and strawberry fields ages you quickly. The foul taste never left my mouth from the outpour of blood dripping down the wooden planks ,maybe perhap cuz i couldn’t ever stop licking the pain from my lips, falling angels that swims forever in the blue and becomes of it. I cannot turn my head away from the tragedy that still beckons its beauty, so i stare on.....
til i get here again, no matter at which point of the world’s end, i’m still here again. And what i see when I”m looking out, all the same, all the casualities gargling in my mouth as i breathe in and out, heavy from the exhausation of hustling in a torturous city, surviving with too little folks to love and too many too far...when you make it, in life that is, the baggage creases the heart. You learn to love all the same like you’re learning to walk agaain, misguided baby steps of lost wonder years. Hah hah the good old sickened grief ...
Oh, the fucking accumulated heartbreaks and meltdowns all withdrawals once i’m here again, the sweet sound of the gentle blue beast dancing from an open womb, again and again. And again. And again. And again. And again.
Who are you to ridicule me from my flapping arms if you never attempted to set yourself free, come.....come....
Nothing
Nothing
Nothing
Nothing
Nothing has ever been this beautiful. Shh.
DEDICATED TO MAKEEBA BROWNE
