asis62
You have stacks of money.
I have stacks of books.
Books that apparently seem to have
no interest in being opened by the
person who needs them the most.
Why, you ask?
Because I'd rather have stacks of money
Than stacks of unopened books not
wanting to be opened by its borrower.
Luckily, you have a degree.
I don't, at least not yet...
I iron my wrinkled shirts.
I iron my face to you,
into your little heart with
words of happiness and joy
to make you feel so beautiful
and wrinkle-free.
I have enough iron.
Enough clothes to iron
so that you'll never have to
iron a wrinkled-shirt ever again.
I live by my morality.
People define me by my morality.
I stand in defiance to those who believe
my race, sexuality, behavior,and life choices
cannot constitute to a greater morality
in the society we live in.
How will you define morality?
I suppose you've heard..
Yesterday was the last day I
took anyone else's advice on
what I should do with my life cause
I suddenly realized everything I had
thought was true and genuine was
indeed a lie.
So I suppose you probably still care, huh?
I braid my hair with sharp
stems that ignited the pain
of your presence in the
first place.
Braiding is clearly not my thing.
If it were, then I would describe it
as something more empowering
and meaningful.
Braiding hair is self-empowerment.
To be completed by someone else,
other than me.
Romantic? Ha.
Just the topic I need.
When I needed romance I got it
In the form of "Fuck You" since
"I Love You" was a privilege
for me to hear.
Yeah, you were romantic.
You were all romantic.
All my ex's were too romantic
that I had to let them go
so they could fuck romance
over with someone else.
Not me.
half,
not empty,
not full,
never satisfied.
half of anything means nothing.
half of you will give me no strength
to know that you're still alive.
half of me will give you nothing but
hard times and wishful thinking.
never half-ass anything in life.
Density is dense in itself.
The word accumulates in the internal memory of my brain.
Bringing density to life is bringing density to freedom,
Because when I write it's not freedom I express,
it's not words that I write,
it's not a voice that I release,
it's the density of my mind.
Remembering those days,
swinging in my ways,
jump roping high as hell,
so high I'd never reach hell.
That playground was my heaven.
writing since 2011 · 9 entries · 9 days shown up
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the words Anthony reaches for
halfirondensityromanticmoralitystacksbookshellbringingfreedomwritewordsromancefuckhairbraiding