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Cracks
self analysis gone awry.
I don’t keep a traditional journal,
Can’t limit myself to a single book.
Scraps of paper, scattered ideas,
Thoughts for later, random hooks.
Catch a thief and steal time
Take a leaf from this dodgy rhyme.
Never mind
My mind
Your fine, I SHINE
I’m perfect and as is meant
If you believe fake positive self-help guru lines.
I constantly provoke angry thoughts, then reassure.
Attack and defend
No consistency to measure
As if challenges to the status quo in my head release pressure.
Like a fissure, like a crack,
Ready to blow.
Inner tension brings out inner treasures
I never knew.
I never knew how close to pressing ctrl alt delete I am!
Without sounding overly melodramatic I feel like a personal scam—
No substance all Sham Glitter Glam,
But these little cracks reveal who I am to those who take the time to listen.
I think I’m a bit clever, I also know dumbness intimately.
It comes out of me
When I try to initiate some creativity
Just a showman with distractions
Sleight of hand to gain traction
Til a legitimate brainwave stomps on mimicry in reaction,
In disgust at my cliché, dumb, drug addled reflections.
But there is talent hidden in there/integrity, originality, yes
I care!
I do, yes, but cravings for recognition, lust, always beat me there!
That thief in the night, sneaky fuck, undermining
Need to produce something, pure.
But he leaves, in place,
Thoughts as substantial as an icicle at the beginning of spring thaw.
A thing of beauty that hides nothing, no, not a thing.
Deceptive reality, truth receding with no one listening…
But here’s the thing,
Without my paper scraps how do I keep my
Scattering
Rattling
Chatterings from shattering?
From initiating self-combustion and overreaction?
There’s no nobility in attracting
False praise and adulation for ideas not worth having.
The hidden ones, the clever ones, the sentient ones
Will never be revealed in sloppy scribblings, ego-driven and callous public shamings.
And
By callous
I mean worthless, I mean not a patch on the depths I can reach if I succumb
To honesty.
I mean truly dumb.
I mean, fuck send me back to the cradle sucking my infant sized thumb!
Regurgitated juvenile ideas, c’mon luv u can do so much more - bang your drum!
Give me something not spewed from the vacuous minds on twitter
Emotional GARBAGE, illiterate litter!
But peer deep into the cracks, those reckless fissures, remove the bitter glitter—
And I’m there!
Truly.
And the truth is wanting to come.
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