Poet's Story
Location
Truth be known this is a poet’s story
Of agony, pain
Glorified dismissal
Acceptance at the blow of a whistle
That as we speak a child is forcibly falling to their knees
In retribution for not being good enough
Strong enough
Not knowing that there is no time long enough
To heal the wounds of a broken soldier
That is misunderstood but heard
Misheard but understood
In those moments
That pain they hated feels good
It feels real
Feels like it feels
Understanding the depth of mind numbing silence
Self-inflicted violence
And untold lies and truth
This is a poet’s story
Unable to speak loud enough
To make sound enough for somewhere to hear
Someone to fear
For I’d rather be feared than be full of fear
Of my shadow and reflection
Life has taught many lessons
None my sticky than hatred
Lessons and lesions leaving my mouth tasteless
Unable to grasp the sweet sound waves of my loveliness
The loveliness that doesn’t exist inside of this
That is beside of this
Because society teaches the loveliness of a woman is between her pussy lips
As they grasp the erect hatred of a man to make her cry out in agony
Perpetuating hatred as a trip down love’s lanes
To make it seem as if you should enjoy the pain
This is a poet’s story
Laughing hysterically
As knives flow over the skin slowly
Cutting not deep but just enough
For the truth to flow
As your blood changes colors
As it drips towards the floor
Shifting itself into your personality
Leaving your heart upon a stage
Called reality
As you stare an audience unsure of your presence
Feeling invisible but spotlighted at the same time
Contradicted and confused
Your life story makes the front page news
Distorted and reworded
Like they took your life and made it into a fictional directional guide of disparaging disgust
Like if your pain wasn’t painful enough
And lay there staring at your own wounds
Covered in your own disrespect
As you morph yourself into someone else
Someone more comfortable
Someone more relatable
Relatable to the fakeness
And fuckery
And foolishness
And lack of loveliness that surrounds
Because society says the loveliness of a man lies in his ability to be angry but controlled
To be loose but locked up
That his loveliness lies in the ability to be suppressed and oppressed but convince himself that he is free
And in that moment
You realize this is a poet’s story
That someone in the world
Is a child inside of an adult
Remembering the shoves of despair
As she opens her legs for another pair
Pair of shoes
Pair of advancement
Pair of checks
Pair of minimal respect
That to get respect you must give respect
But once that respect is gone you have nothing left
And therefore no one, no longer respects you
Rejection at the hands of your owner
Who whispers love lines to make your skin feel warmer
To inject life into your deadly spiel of nothingness
That amongst those things of life
Lies nothingness
And there’s someone laughing hysterically
As your pain doesn’t match theirs
As your pain isn’t painful enough
Isn’t painful enough to be reported as told
But prodded and molded
And touched
And molested
And raped
Into a new story
Full of fear and agony
Full of disgust and unfairness
As if living life as it is, is justice
Its just us
Just us who feel it
Just us who get it
Just us who remember what it was that made us into these vessels of speaker boxes
And microphones
Who cords connect to turn us on
To be heard
To be seen
To no longer be invisible
To for once feel lovely
To feel lovely for our intelligence
Not for a perpetuation of others superiority
For more than our sex
For more than our ability to be suppressed
For us this is a poet’s story
Just us and lack of justice
As somewhere in the world
A person kneels down on their knees
To pray
To fuck
To suck
To die
To live
To breathe
To suffocate
Under the weight of their own capabilities
Somewhere in the world
Is another person reciting on a soap box
To an audience of just one
Somewhere this is justice
For more than just us
This is a poet’s story