Do or Dye
Sitting on the roof top trying to tell myself I’ve not misbehaved.
Blush rose hues creep up my cheeks and I know my hearts desire is unexplained.
I look at the stars — one always stands out brighter than the rest.
I say to myself — there goes my next conquest.
With liberal wings and green peace in my heart ,
I know for the sake of inhabiting my skin-unconfortable feelings will always play a part.
Forgive me for being free spirited and seeking out a bon ami.
If I had testicles would my new gender let me walk free ?
to be me?
It’s a plea.
I love what I desire .
I desire what I love .
I hate it when my sanity decides to imitate a neat whisky on the rocks.
Truth be told – I know I’m getting old .
Disambiguous feelings about the path I tread.
May my daughter’s laugh always bring me round to the sound of present day clocks.
Murmurs of hesitation .
Live my life, have a voice, and sail away
Where else do you think I would choose for a holiday destination?
The one I never have to come back from.
It’s me inside me.
Dare to take a part of me — feel my anticipation.
The specials-the after math.
Told off for my impulsive reaction.
The fact I’m conscious I am typing these words-
I feel inauthentic in how they roll out my mind with a hesitant tense formation
Words rise up ,around me – Jab me and a jeer me to dare say whats on my mind.
I’m not a child and I’m not venerable just yet .
So I swim against the tide of the alphabet soup.
Clarity I seek.
One tidal wave from forcing myself to write these words down;
If only to reinforce I have my own sound.
Sound as a pound
Scared of clowns .
That’s better-Socs — that’s my deal.
How I get from a-z- without reaching out for the plan involving illegally, prescribed Ativan.
Banned from my perception of the elite.
Breached my licence to complete…
Should I hit delete?
This is my beat.
I won’t let me beat me down.
Self is the worst enemy-you know how it ages your reflection
scowling in a frown.
She’s back in business now . Wah da da da da — the song clearly has relevance in my sense of decline.
Fall 8 times — get up again.
Who am I to want merely blend in?
I was born to be a Bengal feline.
Character building — life coach ,I sense my patience won’t let me vote for your reality T.V. yoke.
It makes me sick.
Watch one episode and I will mutate into just one more cockroach.
I’m on the down line with a mean upper hook.
Priorities in order.
House work infected by the pox — aren’t you glad you vaccinated your park life children?
Let my demon free to infiltrate the anti’s, confront them with the disease bitten book.
Have a say — what’s the worst that can happen?
Speak your mind — illegal aliens might just descend from that planet called Saturn.
Write to recover. Write to escape.
Shake up your mind , dare to continue —an inner ongoing live debate.
Not for hate — you make your own fate.
Feeling Anxiety. Too worried about what John Sax’s might reveal to his munchie queen.
Know thyself and be true to yourself.
I’m not going to change my character to fit in with society’s latest heart melt.
Superstitious mind – I earned it in walking my path — did you see my black belt?
Stand up for who you are and what you believe in.
Some may consider me strange but have you had a look at your inner heathen?
The entity is back — no wheel-dealing with a bad batch of sugar coated crack.
6 million ways to die — choose one
That came from a song – Who am I to sit around and hide?
* DEADLINE for EMA Sunday night. *
The song -contains some cussing and may offend feminists ….. 😉 Maybe not this song 😀 Idk.
Posted on May 19, 2017, in STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS COLLECTION and tagged Creative Writing, Creativity, Emotions, Life, Relationships, Stream of consciousness, Thoughts. Bookmark the permalink. 34 Comments.