I am a writer. I am a listener. I long all night for someone to click the light on and read to me since I'm not getting any sleep anyways. Hate and confusions are synonymous to me most days. I have a condition. Sure. But I AM a poet.
I like to read a loud. I'm trying with all my heart to master performance poetry. To read work that is worthy of my self and of my life's education. But I don't really. Not really. I know that I don't. How could I?
Those lights are so bright they make you sweat. I don't know if you've ever stood before an audience before. Your body does crap it normally NEVER does.
But you think you're brave. so, you step way to close too that mike that every one else has been spitting into all night. You grasp it to try and feel a little more comfortable, open your mouth and you begin to read to strangers your inner most thoughts in a way you've practiced a million times.
You want to rip into the things that really piss you off, to make things you feel people in your life over look and thrust it in the audience's face like a cold glass of water.
I want to talk about an isolated, haunted childhood. I want to write song lyrics about the way the word "freak" makes my air way close and my the colors of my childhood memories turn that much more bland. I want to preform poetry on the tips of my toes with my eyes shut and my neck stretched about how the advice of family members that are completely normal is inapplicable to my situation and when they judge me for being exhausted in a way they can't comprehend, I have to hate internally and then still choose to forgive them.
I want to say THAT. For painfully obvious reasons, I don't.
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