Today I listened to someone else’s words
It was like taking a laxative for my mind
I was on a bus and the words started tumbling
Bumbling, stumbling out, rushing in a stream
A pen between my lips while I had to pay my
fare

Quick, what do I have to write on?
My driver’s permit… good enough
Sit down sit down before I lose this one

Like a secret stolen pleasure of studying a stranger
From across a room or on a bus or on the street
Knowing by the way her eyes dart that she
Doesn’t tell her folks that she does coke
Or by the way she tosses her hair toward you
I could catch a glimpse of her bedroom
Or even by the way his eyes are a pale blue
Haggard with the scent of hospital perfume
Someone he loved had a cancer with no cure

My stolen pleasure is to observe
The things around me
And I’ve been taught to suck it up
Because I’ve learned to make up for the fact
That what I see takes them down
To an intruder alert truth staring back
And it’s a hard relationship with the world
Their fear that hurt me so much because of what
I instinctively know, yet
What I know is thousands of little treasures
I’ve picked up along the way
I just use every measure of tool, color, and shade
Like the rhyme of some play I take
every
Measure for treasure

It’s not like every little thing I think
Is a treasure
To anyone else but me
Just brain droppings on the stuff
I’m force-fed
And even the smallest measure of kindness
Extended
Is something I remember
Because sometimes the silence seeps in
And I don’t even notice with all the din
The useless false relating that only touches skin
small talk
It goes no deeper because intimacy is a sin
Unless you bound finger and heart with a ring
Then the loneliness grows quietly like a cancer
The only sign a discoloration that only hurts
When you touch it
Until you can’t ignore it
Because it has saturated every pore and thought
And your chances of surviving are steeper
It seems like everything is destroying
When you had thought, it’ll work for now
And now became later and later
The avoidance your medicator personal and
close
And then it ruptured like a vein
Too abused to support
The constant numb injection of expectation
Into your blood stream
A mind pollution of social scripts
Like a drug more potent than heroine
I fight it every day
And steal my pleasures of the moment
Tuck my treasures in my pocket
Use my measures to get by
Even though they don’t get it
No matter how I try to explain
Again and again and again that this life
Is so much more than staying
In a room, playing videogames
I live off of my resignation while keeping my
course
And I remember
why
I fight everyday

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