The Turnaround


How do I say, “No”
before I break my own heart?
Do I have to go along
with it all until You tell me,
“It’s not working”?
Or must I lose my fire
because all the matches I had
are now immersed under water?
Would I have relearn how to cry?
Maybe I would stutter
How can I mess up a simple word
that could either strengthen me
or the one thing that could cause me
to crumble before all those who I knew
were laughing at me in my face
while shaking their pathetic heads?
I want to be better
I should be better
I can be better
than what I have here now
There is a world outside of this shell
that wants to know me well
to see me well
to see me do well
and grow along with Me
So, I have to say, “No,”
before I am no longer able to
I gave you a piece of Me
and you can keep it
But I will feed it and make it grow back
fuller, stronger, and more productive
All by myself
until I am able to say, “Yes,”
again without hesitation
without doubt
without grief
without pain
without a You who wants nothing
out of life
I want to feel my heart beating
everywhere like a walking orgasm
because I want
because I desire
to share
and not just give
to someone unwilling to learn
how to love back
I have to be selfish
Now, when I face you,
that “No,” means that I have turned
Myself “On”
On I am
On I will be
Alive, valuable, worthy, and somebody

Imagine That


 

Would you love me if I wrote a poem that sold over 3 million copies

One that you would read over and over again

one that made you happy – Just because the person who liked it was your

friend?

 

Would you speak to me if I were to push a wheelchair recipient around everyday?

Couldn’t you see that this isn’t something one does for attention

-But because I thank God for giving me a blessed life?

 

Would you like me more if I gave you my diamond and sapphire cross

To wear around your neck?

God wouldn”t like you any more than He already does

He doesn’t like bigots

 

Do you like unicorns?

Yeah, well how could you like something that’s not real?

Suppose I were to tell you that I am a unicorn, then what?  Would

You stop using your imagination and say I’m crazy?  Or would you just agree

to get me off your back?

 

What if I gave you a unicorn – a copy of myself to hold in

your hands, would you believe in me then?  No?  Then I don’t think

you’re real.  If a unicorn is imaginary and you have an imagination,

why can’t the imagined be real?  Could it be because an imagination

can’t imagine another imagination or could it be that we are a

Nation (in each self) made up of images unable to imagine the real?

Are you afraid of the dark?  Sometimes?  So are unicorns!

How do I know?  Well, I was one, till you stopped believing.