Slip it In
Very quiet sneaky hopes begin to move in.
Dreams and even worries suddenly have a moment in your day.
You used to know the levels of shit you would take. Now that scale can fluctuate.
Things change when you are more. When you are less, things just go away.
To have a goal you must open yourself up to defeat. There is a great selling point.
The olds days of happy indifference meet all those old days of teddy bears, warm cribs and never having to do your taxes.
For your troubles you gain freedom. You gain choice.
But you still have to choose freedom. Every fucking day. As hard as you can.
Deep down, full body, brain to soul freedom.
Choose it. Side with it. Keep the embers hot.
Or you will be owned.
Not in the good way.
Not in the fun, late Saturday night, hands around throat as you lust and sweat way.
No such luck.
You’ll wake up in the dark trying to figure out how you came to where you are.
Nothing wrong with being more.
Nothing wrong with adding to your life.
Just make sure the starting point doesn’t get lost in the dash.
Dreams and even worries suddenly have a moment in your day.
You used to know the levels of shit you would take. Now that scale can fluctuate.
Things change when you are more. When you are less, things just go away.
To have a goal you must open yourself up to defeat. There is a great selling point.
The olds days of happy indifference meet all those old days of teddy bears, warm cribs and never having to do your taxes.
For your troubles you gain freedom. You gain choice.
But you still have to choose freedom. Every fucking day. As hard as you can.
Deep down, full body, brain to soul freedom.
Choose it. Side with it. Keep the embers hot.
Or you will be owned.
Not in the good way.
Not in the fun, late Saturday night, hands around throat as you lust and sweat way.
No such luck.
You’ll wake up in the dark trying to figure out how you came to where you are.
Nothing wrong with being more.
Nothing wrong with adding to your life.
Just make sure the starting point doesn’t get lost in the dash.
posted by Rex Venom at 6:21 AM
7 Comments:
I almost feel like you wrote this for me considering what my blog has been ranting about for days, but I never flatter myself that much.
Anyway, thanks, its 100% right. Its up to me to take the control back. I tried. Still trying. Life is a serious of hits and misses. I just hate missing.
Wow - great poem. I completely relate to it. Love it!
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
what is it with old me? why are they so scary? why do u have to wake up in every morning feeling u have aged when u havent even grown yet?
"Not in the good way.
Not in the fun, late Saturday night, hands around throat as you lust and sweat way."
Wow. Those lines really spoke to me.
Rex.
That is what it's all about!!
I'll be thinking of you and this poem at the end of the month!!!
(wink wink!!)
Post a Comment
<< Home