This poem somewhat piggybacks ice-cream scoops – except, whereas ice-cream scoops was stirred from a guy; this was stirred from a direct event that made me feel like I had sold the real me short.
When I wrote it I was having a horrible time just finding myself. I know it sounds very melodramatic, but that is the way I was feeling, and as usual, I always tend to write down my feelings.
I died a little yesterday.
I dragged my dreary dreams over a curb, an
Easy task to tend to but
Ending my eternity is easier said than done.
Done deals with the devil to
Save me air-conditioned spaces in his lair
I just had to promise to pressure people to perceive me as an angel,
Almost like he did when he was given the chance.
Left my small belongings with the nobody that loved me and
Kept my soul as someone to play with when I’m alone in hell.
No more worries about the future.
Present become the predicted but the past prevails.
Previews on the escalator down so that everyone can see the mistakes I promised I wouldn’t regret and the
Opportunities I missed for the fear of secluded success.
Wasted wise words from one ear and out of the other,
Wish I listened now.
I stand beside an old lady.
Hailing Mary, full of false grace to millions and a man
With nonchalance noted near his eyes.
He knows knights won’t save him.
She knows Mary’s misguidance is being misused.
I know deserve this.
We all know we belong here.
I’ve embraced my death.
Somewhere, someone is mourning my departure
Someone, somewhere is celebrating my arrival.
I didn’t want to start the poem off by saying I died, because I’m not dead, you know? I’m still very much alive, but at this particular time I felt as though my spirit had committed suicide. I didn’t feel like the normal me that people tend to ‘love’, but somebody who had just conformed to what this cruel world wanted me to be like.
When I say I done ‘deals with the devil to save me air-conditioned spaces in his lair’ – that was me compromising pieces of my life; doing things I didn’t want to necessarily do because that’s what the norm always suggests people do. Not be so crude and crass so we don’t offend people, right? Not take that last piece of cake because you’ve already had two slices. Not to be seen with this or that person because they openly reject how they’re ‘supposed’ to act. I know there is not one person who hasn’t done this at least one time in their lives. Hasn’t acted different around certain people for the fear of what would be thought of when you’re with them and what will be said once you’ve left; so you change. You chuckle a little quieter because you heard they hated your loud laugh. You talk about others because that’s what they do. You don’t wear the outfit you want to wear ‘cause they don’t approve; it’s a little too risky for them. You flat out sell your soul to the devil, let him live vicariously through you just for a little bit of cool air rather than face the heat and live through yourself.
Who are you? Are you that person seeking God, full of false grace because, sometimes you only seek God when you are in desperate need of Him rather than continuously? Who are you? Are you that person who doesn’t really care about dying, because you’ve lived the way you want without subjecting yourself to the way others want you to live?
It’s another one of those be yourself poems. Another one of those poems that tell you that being different from the crowd is easy even though we all know it’s the hardest thing to do. Another one of those poems that allow me to learn from the mistakes I’ve made and remind me to never go on dates with the devil again.
I hope it does the same to you.