I sit down to write this play with fear
about the truth I will share
In this case, my take of what it was for others
Aside from a collective memory
that some rather not share with me,
I trace most crossroads
to moments
where I didn’t feel lost
I remember the need to
trust
to believe in something greater-
In me
not outside in satisfactory complacent contentment’s
but true peace
I heard the voice within
the paranormal mumbles
in cold feet
in doubt
in intuitive stomach growls
turn into
restless night aches
boiling nightmares
into summer fevers
yes the moments where I had no recollection of being a quitter
I’ve grown
And the comparison
still shows
In my demeanor,
I don’t care to be like anyone else
Role models
disguise the distance between making it
and breaking back midnight hour graveyard watchmen days
But heroes
Do exist
Not superman like
A series of prescribed events
Heavenly sent
Malinalli
Sprouts
Changes
rains in each of us,
the redundancy of bringing the past into the ever so unpredictable yet "coincidental" now
where its heavy to carry
the imprints of a
thousand loves
and lives lived
proclivities aside,
if a player recognize game:
then my friend-
we’ve already met
cause all the things that i hate
about others
starts with myself
cause we give meaning to livelihoods by adding titles
to the careers we profess ourselves to
be born to do
a twisted
gratitude
to find a place where silence is golden
where we are not told what to do
what to wear
when to swear
or whom to pledge allegiance to.
until this day i can count the times i raised my right hand over my heart
it’s an art
a translucent penchant
to be lied to
seduced
into abuse
a ridicule of gadgets and distractions
like a kitties trip to a petco
kind of satisfaction
the ethos
a credo that
sings 2-maybe-3
Mex’s
reza 4 corazones del pueblo
y canta 5 leimerts
el mundo te da
donde mas te duele
mero mero
where
it hurts
si le hablas
escucha
y
si escuchas
habla
recio
suave
amable
sin rencor
ni malicia
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