Been yanking on his face hairs since she was a wee little babe
Every day was a repeat of the last, and he loved every minute of it
And yet, one day she decided she was too old to do it anymore
Reaching for his own face hairs, he gave them a tug
Damn that hurt. It just wasn’t the same.
Clutter rampaged across his mental landscape
Leaving a mess of chaos that scrambled his thoughts
Old ideas mixed with current observations and new connections
Giving him no chance to respond to her questions
Grimacing all he could do was shrug his shoulders
Everything he wanted to say tried to come out at the same time, allowing nothing to escape his lips
Distraught, he knew that job opportunity was lost
So everything was identical
And as such, quite boring
Meaning he had to try to do something different
Except everyone did the …
Carnage had been prophesied since the day of her birth
Obliterate the evil, or else she would fail, and the world would burn
Many people tried to guide her, their interests, they felt, were the same as hers
Pulling her six different ways at once, she ended up pitting them against each other
Letting their division give her the room to find her own way
Everything was going well. The darkness was beaten back.
The final battle took place, and in the end, she was victorious
Everyone’s cheers turned to screams when she didn’t stop and began attacking them
He wanted to be a pious sort of dude
Only he didn’t feel like he was good at it
Living life as best as he could by respecting others
Yearning that they would just do the same
Every story needs a hero and a villain
Perhaps they are even the same character
It then becomes all about the hero’s journey
Care to take on the role? It will be…
How many times can you do the same thing
And do you get the wanted dopamine hit for each?
Bet it is a series of diminishing returns
It should make you want to do it even less
That would be nice, but no, you crave want more
So you do it again, well, because…
Forcing air to get its behind moving in front of the spinning tines
As the blades cut up the parts that lollygagged behind
Nothing will ever be the same ever again
Bonus poem:
Focused obsessively on the one-way relationship she had with Him
Always finding out of the way moments to try to finally be with Him
Now that restraining order will be a problem, but it won’t stop her love of Him
Vehicle for fluids is raised for another toast
Enables waking dreams as you stumble being possessed
Sometimes you can host a multitude of different spirits simultaneously
Such as wine, beer, and hard liquors
Enough visitors that you reach your max occupancy limit, and you’re forced outside your body
Leaving you empty and full of yourself at the same time
Given how much it meant to her, this failure left her soul feeling heavy
Reason told her this time wasn’t any different then the million times before
And she knew she should let go of that emotional weight
Vanity wouldn’t let that happen, though
It kept her rooted firmly on the ground
That pressure to beat Sisyphus by pushing up her metaphorical boulder
Yielded the same result. She never left her personal black hole
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Tagline
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
Author and poet
Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
Story world
SkEtChEs of my everyday life through tiny words, artworks, quotes, clips, and snapshots--- capturing a moment in time.
Never Short On Words 