Big Break 🎤

Photo by @kopshotthekid on Instagram.

Looking into the depth of darkness

Which stretched its hand out to this child that only wanted the essence of attention

Let’s start with his reflection and how the difficult part was acknowledging his childhood self.

”Hi, I’m alive,” with so many questions that it will

Take up four museums to slow down the hunger to remember myself.

Then deflect became the teacher that used neglect as its syllabus to pass the class.

Well the pamphlet seems the display disappointment.

And the grading system is flawed due to the past recurring nightmares.

Yes, we come from the same source.

And, yes you opened the door for this soul to appreciate this drunk driver called spirit.

But getting an A was impossible due to the presence of uniqueness having animosity with copy and paste.

That only knows how to write the word “Duplicate”

Or should the villain be called, “Repetition.”

So let’s attempt to pair being seen with marching to the identical drum that

Made trauma match the attributes of intervention

Since only one entity is facing hurt

And the other only feeds off of the attention that guilt drugged connection

Into accepting loneliness as a companion

And silence became the alphabet language without a wireless translator

So, I guess you can’t hear me now

But I found that words are tasty to the mind like food is to the stomach

And these puzzle pieces in front wants eyes that hasn’t been eroded

Yet, and remember that destroying is way easier than putting someone back together

So, maybe that is not the only way to be seen.

Since this child was trying to balance out the difference between

Joy from Despair.

But maybe the link chain between us will miraculously be looked at as intertwined failures.

Because a fuse box will only live to its full potential when connection isn’t cut short.

While bleeding out, “Hey Can You See Me?” as the only diploma that seems out of reach.

Not the hands of determination though

But, that I don’t fit in the normal creation of man.

We breathe the same

Our experiences are different perspectives from the same kaleidoscope dream called, “Life.”

But I decided to cry out my sorrows on these pages like a hug nurtures digestible pain

And attempt to stop hiding from the subject called shyness that I’m fluent in

So, my next destination is the podium with fear and nervousness being the two parents that always walks with me.

And I start to write the manifesto called, “Dear Microphone”

BOOM BOOM!!!

Is this thing even on?…