and how often a real man’s tear dance
if you could only see how much i love living
Life be like:
Aye yo, go figure it out my nigga
what i do today will inform forever
“ain’t nobody crying for u”
“every moment is full”
“it set you free”
have u ever wanted something so much you’ll just die
It’s in the tapestry of my conscience…
i love it too much to leave it.
-now that that is settled; i see him capsized, from the holes in the grate of the sewer. water drips, unchoreographed, every few moments- must have rained 48 hours ago or so. i walk past in fear but a few meters towards apathy i turn and call to him. that boy is on fire. massaged in sewage and the past. keep in mind, i’m lost, as i always am. i am good. i want to help him. i scream down, not out. hope finds the sound faster than his ear. and in a language (i assumed nearly extinct) he responds in a cry. much more orchestral than misery finding company: it is love at first sight.
how do u pull someone out of the gutter. how do you lift a boy who wants to stay right where he is?
there were pillows everywhere. overstuffed, healthy white pillows. the way i saw it, it was more comfortable to sit in sin. progress is discomforting. mucky feathers. rats on thanksgiving.
lord knows im more comfortable right here. clean.