On keeping shit outside, it’s like this-
You were telling
Sister a story about how you regret
Not seeing grandpa before he left for higher regions.
Y’all were talking about decisions. You made one
To prove some kind of sense of responsibility,
“I’m a man dammit!” you wanted her to know it, not sister,
But an ex-lover (really to yourself).
You were hella broke and didn’t want moms
Cashin’ out for the plane ticket to Ohio
Though she offered. You wanted your ex to
Respect you. She still didn’t.
Point is you didn’t see him, grandpa (or yourself then),
You and her didn’t last,
You have lived with this regret, this clogged energy.
This was a daft
Process, if you caught yourself in time,
You would have grown
A set of true golden wings, strong, flourishing, working
In higher places, yet
Ornery you were and though you still saw the danger,
You thrusted into it even harder. As a result
You had these make-shift, rushed,
Premature, cheap ass tin foil wings,
You were most definitely burnt by the sun, (you thought you were ready/safe to fly solo)
Boy, did you fall, all that tape and wax, unraveling down like ribbon,
Clawing at the sun, you did, like he was about to help you, you
Couldn’t hold you up
Against the heat, plus that love wasn’t love anyways, wasn’t strong enough
To keep y’all no ways (everyone told you).
Sometimes your stymied heart is more like a stomach,
Best to keep the clogged, rancid, festering energies outside,
But you knew that Anaheim baguette was gonna get you.
You love baguettes.