Morbid.

dd64xow-021bffb3-3547-40ff-a70b-df5720642fdb.jpg

Fumbling within the clutter of a word cloud,

Losing myself with how often I re-write –

– Each line – benign, as I cater to the design

Relative and specific to each rhyme.

 

My words would sooner finish before my ink does.

Wait – I meant to say that the other way ’round – no doubt –

– In my eyes, as I face my beast head-on like a game of joust.

A quick jab of my lance to its chest,

Face first within the dirt –

– Is where my Goliath gets to witness the rest.

 

My ballpoint hovers over words that form the piece

Retroactively rendering judgement before the ink breathes

Every day for me is a class back in session

Who am I to think myself exempt from life’s lessons?

 

Six-figure-words deep on my journey of self-discovery,

Books, movies, different types of cheese –

– all things worthy of yet another category

All I say is “curb that need

When you start to see it bleed over to humanity”

 

Right on time, my persistent nihilism always entails

Death approaches me with yet another enticing flirt

Much to the irritation of my enemies

I toss the noose,

Sating sleep’s favourite cousin with thirst.

 

Apologies if I’ve ever looked like prey to you

A common misconception I make no time to contend with

I chuckle when they tell me they have me figured out

– Ignorant spouts that run in parallel with the sphinx telling me

It has always had a nose for my ink

What you see –  rather selectively – is what I let you see

Don’t confuse seeing the sun with discovering it.

 

“Fiercely independent, unnaturally individualistic,

Selfish and inept at maintaining group harmony”

Which harmony? The one you allude to when preaching to your sheep?

Take a close look at my wings, tell me,

Do they look like they were made for the cage?

 

Some choose to lead, some choose to follow

Some realize life goes deeper,

That life is not so simple, not so hollow

There is no we; just you and me

No absolute freedom but the best illusion of it

Happiness being a series of exceptional distractions.

 

I rein in my morbid thoughts because I respect your idea of peace

I haven’t seen everything, but I’ve seen enough to know what I want

And what I want is to live my life

Saying what I feel

Without having to worry if it sounds right.

Ask yourself what emotional turmoil I’ve had to go through

To accept depression as my most trusted companion

And not the company of those that call me family or friend.

 

 – O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: JoeyJazz