by QUANZELL
I see a half-done hairline
I see a jar full of wine
I see what I want to be
I see a weird disease
I see Young Jeezy
I see Jay-Z
You don’t get to trample
over me
like some bodacious water buffalo
in heat.
It’s never that deep
try to keep up, sweetheart
lingering around like secondhand
smoke
now you’re behind my second-to-last
option
given the choice
you don’t get to come around like
everything’s fine
finally moving on for myself. No
static in my room anymore
But you walked back in like
you were on Dancing with the Stars
you fell from my heavens a
while ago, burned
in the atmosphere
But it was I who
couldn’t handle the pressure
still can’t. All
caught up in my concerto
sweltering beneath stage lights
you don’t get to cheer at the end
It’s not your show anymore.
I am beautiful because I watch you dress up for an hour. I am beautiful because you made me like this for now. I am beautiful because you love me like this. I am beautiful because I think I am on the inside.
Enlightened, yet still dumb
to the surroundings. The
ballistic words sang in
a monotone voice, Neologism
comes into play as we
find a new word for
love. Ratchet opportunist
seeking to seize your attention.
Laugh off zealous attempts.
Lies are a gallant
juxtaposition in mind. Give
me an optimistic dance.
Drop your petty xenophobic
thoughts and be free.
The train looked like it was
going to run somebody over and
people were trying to get on it before
it leaves.