SOBO THE MAN

[ & I’m sexy & I’m not again & I’ll do whatever to feel...]

tolls appear when you

have to pay to get

through,

but it’s free here

for all to use.

No restrictions or

limitations or

self-confidence or

preservation.

Just a body to be

touched and peeled

and pressed and

plucked and poked

so you can make

your mess.

regardless of if it’s

on my cheeks or

chest.

baby, i’m so glad

you relieved your

stress.

[… in a sea of words that scurry like birds…]

In this deceased sea

I’ve paid no attention

to meaningful words,

so they scurry, fleeing

my vision like startled

birds.

the advice I’d once

given has forgotten

to imprison itself

in my mind,

so I’m lost

yet hidden.

I’ve started a quest

To find my religion.

I’m witnessing the

devil on his

mission

to acquire something

different and

deter my path,

he’s filled my soul

with regret

and wrath.

Clouding my frontal

lobe with daydreams

of revenge

so that in reflective

moments I’ll

forget to forgive.

I’d look to flesh

That surrounds my

Own to forget their

Own problems

And squat in

My home.

To lend an ear

And hear my

Screams that have

Been rehearsed since

Fifth teen.

Keeping ties with

Those habitual

Habits have proven

To be my only

Tactic

To wade through

All of my mental

Madness

And cushion all

Of my emotional

Crashes.

Questioning patience

To rename it

Torture, and

Rethinking notions

Of passing over.

Still, I know that

Life is a gift

Of closure,

And each day a

Chance to start

over,

[you can’t assume

That aging is

Growing older.]

Polishing my soars

To show off as

Wealth, I’ve battled

With demons

That I store on

My shelf.

Wonders of when

These trials will

End, or begin,

Fighting for

Answers to

Prevent regretting

Sin.

[ To the birds

Who’s beauty

I neglected for

Protection,

Please return

To lecture

[... & the direction i’ll go]

with soles clutching to the ground

where the soil is fertile, yet grass

doesn’t grow,

i’ll listen to what the earth wants

me to know,

and listen even harder to find

the

direction

i’ll

go.

watching trees that will be here

after me,

growing to great heights, despite

gravity;

how they’ve taken the beatings

from the hurricanes and their

fierce winds and rain,

within life and it’s hardships

i’ll learn to do the same.

instead of idolizing fame

and constantly misplacing

blame,

i’ll grow higher than cranes

and even planes,

even aliens will remember my

name,

and will grow

to know

the

direction

i’ll

[... & my lungs, & trauma, & the sadness of it all]

numbness and pain

flood the voids of my brain,

and i can’t reclaim

what’s been taken by trauma.

all the distractions

and the devil’s attraction

to my life’s madness

has caused great insomnia.

moments like this

make me sit and wish

that my attempt at suicide

was stronger and accomplished

my soul is tarnished

my lungs are garbage

from cigarettes and

the loss of air;

[… & Holly & the boys & her crew…]

Holly was hot, and scorched her trail with vanity to make

The boys lose their sanity,

But I could never be that fantasy

As much as I’d like to.

I’d follow behind her and sneak beside her and mumble

Words as if conversation occurred to make the

Boy’s wonder what they heard

& if our friendship was true.

Holly wanted nothing more than to be what the

Field boys adored and to levitate from

The floor, so I’d do a little more

To be that too.

These practices were nothing new, She’d let me be

Apart of her crew if I’d let her borrow

My glue, a soft alliance soon grew to me,

and soon to you.

You’d do the same for elementary fame,

And my status on the playground had soon

changed

So the boys finally

knew my name after

All that

I