Friday, June 24, 2011

When It's Unbearably Hot Out And You're Smiling Like An Idiot

Why are you trying to kill me?

I think to myself as I wish I could still
see my reflection in the computer screen
but it's alive now, colors flashing
and text documents opening
shining into my eyes like the old days

It's alive like I feel,
but I'm still in the hole

I'm still living at home, I'm still crazy
though all the doctors say otherwise and hand me compliments

A friend told me once
that 49% of all people are below average
according to mathematicians,
I smile now, like then, and it's a cynic's smile
a charismatic facial voyage as if
I'm still wishing to see my reflection

They make you shake and accept mediocrity,
they make you sleep too much
and smile more when you're not,
they turn your mouth
to dessert sands at daybreak
and don't let go of the dryness until long,
long after the sun has clocked out

I'm happy,
that's what matters to most people, but for me,
I feel I've lost myself, I'm contained...
as if they don't know what to do with me,
kept docile...
when I wouldn't hurt a fly to begin with,
and what bugs me most is
my mediocrity is more acceptable in this condensed state...

this caged beast,
this drugged and ready to trip the life unfantastic fool
with crowds of future and fellow travelers
waving goodbye to one another
and I'm off with a smile on my seemingly sinking ship