Thursday, March 27, 2014

Written for Spoken #1: Things by Cereus

I was going to audition this piece for this April Spoken Word, but since I'm out of town chasing paper, I thought I'd treat y'all regardless. It's called "Things". Enjoy.

"Things I’d have to give up

I’d really just have to sit here.

Honestly, I’d just have to stare out the window, or even at anything in this room. Anything besides my skin. Actually, you have touched basically all of me so even my body leaves my mind wandering endlessly, tirelessly toward the thought of you. With nothing but slideshows of memories we have made together. Memories I’d have to give up for there to be any sort of clean slate on my train of thoughts.

My family would have to go. Which, would be terrible, but if they stick around I’d have to survive many counts of their favorite question. ”How are things with you and what’s-her-name?” 

Off course they know your name, so even now I’m sparing your feelings.

All my bad habits. They were not so bad when we were destroying ourselves together. And you’ve been bugging me to quit smoking weed for the longest time, so if I do quit now, you would still win. You cannot be the reason for anything if I would have to erase you from my mind.

Movies, books, music, art, etc. The way our minds had identical reactions to beautiful pieces of art across countless platforms, always amazed me. Tailor made. One of us the body, the other the suit. One the canvas, the other the paint. God the painter, the singer, the director and the writer. Music especially had an uncanny talent for unlocking chambers that we meant to stay imprisoned forever. But since this parting of ways, that has become my new addiction. I have come to enjoy the ache, blood cells deliberately denying orders from above.  

Days. Nights...

Breathing. I remember how we would lay next each other and sync the rhythmic rise and fall of our chests. How we would hold onto each other by the wrists and “meditate” until our pulses would resonate. Stare down contests and thumb wars. Silly things like career, education, nutrition (food and liquor), sex, cuddling and kissing. Everything would have to go. There is nothing left in this world without your omnificent influence.

The thing is; you let me see beneath your beautiful, only to expose an earthquake which you claim was caused by me allowing you to express yourself. A labyrinth crafted by your amazing train of dirty thoughts which so excellently coincides with mine. And our trains would inevitably crash in the middle. Leaving a crash site so bizarre I am perplexed by the fact that it hasn’t been written of before. For it formed the shape of a heart. Our heart. A heart now broken. “Our egos fed on each other and died over weight.” 

And so. If I really wanted to start over, I’d really just have to sit here. Alone. Outside. On the ground. Dead."