Week 3 B3

“My motivation transforms into the hungry desire to sit on the curb and flip everyone and their elite condescension, one by one, the bird.” This sentence is what I’ve been feeling for a few days. The sheer lack of motivation motivates me to have a slight distaste for everyone, including myself. In those moments, I see any bit of ego and it develops into me rolling my eyes and emptying my mind.
With that said, I want to add a poem. I think writing sentences or essays is for my brain to understand and reply. But when I write poetry, that’s when my heart understands and speaks. Corny, I know.

Seeing you walk in front of me
eyes wide
Dreaming a daydream where time is different
Your fame is immense. being stopped at every staircase
complimented for holding your phone
With complete disregard for your own surroundings
You dress so put together, in contrast to
the rowdy and rugged cuzzins I know you have
Opening the window of night
Moon bright and feet rooted…sunk
Into the uneven concrete
Perfect.
\|Different eyes\|
Not good enough.
The ground flat and filled with people calculating your every move
Feet like air . slightly heeled loafers clacking on the ground
Sun beaming into my glasses
as I await to exist alone
Complete acknowledgement of everything surrounding me
Feeling left out..black sleep -missing home….all rezzy n rugged
The only people who view me in the light of fame encased in glass, phone.
The rush I feel from recognition makes me feel less alone
….but then I remember….
You only see the image of fame
Sick and tired of walking only to feel the loneliness creep in
Closing my eyes
Dreaming a daydream where time is different

\\

Am I understanding now?
Close.

A Last Note:

🙂