concrete scupture
its assumptions of other’s knowledge of myself, misinterpretations of my own story, surroundings i chose to be in, minutes i bought into without regret, finding my location years later, not because i did the wrong thing, cause i did the right thing, my feet remain planted on the ground, my hand around my lighter, my view across the odd reprise, i‘ve imagined i suffered realizing that the right thing for oneself, the right thing for others, can rarely be truly aligned to be the right thing for the two of us
static
here to revisit
persist
first of all it’s a grave
i didn’t even fathom
earth beneath my feet
hardened through my hands
overgrown, my buried hand broke free
grew away from you until it couldn’t stretch any further
not reckoned, never reckoned with
it will take years
for my plan to come true but it isn’t a plan it’s just what i want to happen
victimization in light of our actions / in
sexy as fuck
demonization / out
skewed values and impressions
i’m fucking thriving
you believe that?
our streets walk themselves on autopilot
hence i returned
little pilgrimage
it’s me who truly changed my life it’s me who tragically has to witness my own spit clump up the dust
for sticking to who you are
to yourself
fighting against who you are to others
what endures is only
time spent
hope, somebody tells me, needs to die, for new hope to emerge
my hope remains
after we broke up she released a book titled flowers i should have thrown away yesterday, years later i started collecting flowers to dry on a walk with somebody i wanted to spend my entire life with, depressing glue held it onto a letter never read, late, cause i sat contemplating, had asked for hints, as if existence was only for myself, i bought flowers for near strangers, only for them to die in my kitchen, when she was ashamed, when she flaked, when i realized i had no grip on actuality, but remained seated waiting for anything
to change the course
of your flowers moulding
in the corner of my kitchen
i sat on my balcony for months waiting for time to fill the space, i trusted blindly, flowers, smokes and hope for the barrenness underneath my feet to become
i sat on a capsule trapped under corrupted gravel, i didn’t understand, until i looked down at my feet, the cigarettes, the pigeon shit, the flowers across the plain, moments of misguided hope, accepted, traces of real decisions, wrong answers, the worst habits, the glorified decay, the weight of staying behind, i had built the place where i resided, a model of my position, my decision to remain in blind faith in what’s ahead
at the same spot i’ve known, it didn’t seem like it lead anywhere else than anything else
longing for another force of nature to disrupt the residues of time spent
but winter came and summer came and winter came again and summer came again and winter came again and then there might have been another winter and another summer
and nothing breathed
epilogue
all embarrassment declares humanity proudly, all admitted failure to understand represents integrity, all action is born out of fear or bravery, one victorious
brave is to love without fear.
i remain a fearful bitch.
until the bitter fucking end.