Skip to main content

Written for Spoken #1: Things



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 to 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 overweight.” 


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

~Zeez


Comments

Post a Comment

Thought?

Popular posts from this blog

WTF #6477968: I Can Only Hope

Sitting here. I am trying my utmost to get my brain to refrain from letting your image infatuate it so. I am monitoring my breathing patterns in hopes that my heart slows down so that it might forget to beat for you. I am trying to do impossible things to take my life back. I am failing successfully. I will hope that you miss me too though. I hope you miss me with all your senses. When you go about your day, and happen to come across a photograph, or you read my name somewhere. I can only hope that your eyes lock. I pray that your mind presses play and displays our movie of memories in such high definition; it robs you of your breath. I wish the molecules in your tears would race each other, causing a stampede in your ducts, ready to erupt and soak whatever it is you were looking at. I can only hope that when you hear a song we both like, your ears fuzz. Shiver even. I so wish your body aches for mine so bad that you would squeeze your pillows so hard, you wer
Post a Comment
Read more

Written For Spoken #3: Defeated Victor by Glen

" 'Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat.' -        ~Sun Tzu I once knew a woman of admirable values. Her beauty so deep, it resonates from the inside out.   She was beautiful down to her soul, th e kind of beauty lasts forever , or so I thought. You could spot her in a crowd of thousands, for her beauty is unique. But over time she has been swallowed by the crowd and I can barely recognize her. When I see her face now, I see a stranger clad in anger, disguised in sorrow and bitterness and I can’t make out who she is. She looks at me with anger and regret, her gaze burning straight through me as if she intentionally wants to pierce my soul with her stare of a thousand daggers. I can’t even look in her eyes as the tinted windows of her soul bear no resemblance to the warmth I once knew as my sanctuary. I remember when things were simple and loving each other was like air, eas
Post a Comment
Read more

Written For Spoken #4: A Legend of a Smile

I saw her. On the insides of my eyelids where she resides on her throne of brightness; she’s a sun in a dark room, and I sat there charging in her radiance like a Kryptonian. Every ray, a soft stroke telling me it’s ok to love again.  Her skin is velvet. Silk strands merged with my fingers. As I held her hand, her gaze tore through my fallen generations and handpicked me to award this smile to. It’s magic, but it’s fire... keeps you warm. Especially when you rub your hands over her, or MARSHMALLOWS, You could fry marshmallows on her soul. Every time I looked at her, my being shook, like opening a new book where the first few lines got you hooked. The silent alarm, telling Neo to wake up.  The way her face lit up; the sparkle in her eye like a torch on a Tamagochi. Her cheeks running away from each other, kept together by that cute nose, eyes collapsing in an explosion of happiness.  Was that a giggle or is Olympus falling? Is she a goddess come to grant me a laugh so fluffy I
Post a Comment
Read more