I hear the huge crowd shout my name over and over again. So many voices that its almost difficult to make out what they're saying. As I walk back stage, with body guard on my right side and my manager on the left, I try to pace a more due to the fact that my hair stylist took time to wave my brunette hair. I walk up the stairs where I see the rest of my tour crew getting ready to spring me up on the middle of the stage, as rehearsed of course. I step on the format that will jump me up on stage. I stay still waiting for me cue I'm picturing my view already! Thousands of fans with huge signs that might say "Marry me?' 'I love you', 'follow me on twitter?' and all sorts! The stage is still pitch black now. I hear them excited for they know what to expect. Me! A few seconds later The five-second clock begins to count down on the screen that lights up the entire arena. 5..4..3..2..The mob gets louder by the second. ..1..
The format pushes me upwards with great force. Half a second later I'm on stage stage As soon as my feet hit the ground, balls of fire come from the ends of the stage. "AHHHHHH!' The enormous audience goes crazy! The full arena is completely and entirely full! As the fire comes out, I begin my first song of the night. I can already tell that this is going to be a fun night.
I'm creaky and ached, dragging limbs
in the sunshine bake.
It's not really a walk, or a dance, but a fight
—just to live another day
the way I want in the light.
Stuff keeps piling up.
Useless shit I shouldn't have.
Project fragments tumbling over all my shelves and all my desks.
There's a temptation to twirl
in the center of the room,
with a kerosine can in my hand,
showering everything, before dropping
a match on it all as I drag my limbs
out to the front yard to watch it all expand in anger,
then contract in shame.
Down to dry ash, to be fondled by a breeze.
Down to dimensions past, behind doors without keys.
Down to nothing, leaving just an open space
for a brand new canvas.
What could I do then?
A florist focuses on her floor full of her own flourishing florescence. Formulating a force to form a formidable opponent. Few dispute the beautiful bonnet or the fuel that gives food to bare the fruit of her fair labor. A barrier between a barely able and blare witch fable. We create where we direct ourselves to accept. We favor what we project, never forget. Where we come from, its what we come to wear at our best. Day of depth.
In order for society to win i need to vent. In order to be in solitude i have to let others know where my mind is going. Unfocused as always but still going. Never wanting to stop to smell the goodness in someones worst. Piles of shit is a standard that can be lowered to see my own shit. Im guessing. Reassuring myself without a plan. Im okay i think. Or im not, i think. Im away, i think. Ill stay, i think. But whats the honest truth is that whether or not i like it, Ill pay for whatever ive done. Whether or not ived done anything at all is for my mind to think. Not aloud. Never allowed to sound it out in speech. My mind plays tricks in order for me to sleep. But i trust it from a noble source. To put me on the right course of action, not the same passions ive had before. Just remoi
Starting, and fininshing then starting again. never erasing entirely, never letting go of what keeps me tamed. All for what? What is there to really show at the end of the day. Satisfaction in myself is somewhere else entirely imbedded in my own ego i see noone else. Its me who stops me from being complete. But the circles never envelop a new step its always a rush to end nothing worth starting again. Its my mind that i seek. Its the time to build that i reach. Its more reading and more writing. More letting my moral standards rise and fail. Then find a waste inline with another ones mind. I am not lonely with all the circles. Im only solemly in the air. Wishing that i could start to care about myself the way the world is treating me with grace. Am i a disgrace?