The self I know sailed into life with my sisters, my brothers, my seaworthy others. My reality is a ship plunged as a whole into the sea by the storms of today.
The teacup that social gods send, the titans of media help hold it down. it splinters me to descend to the bottom of my self.
My reality is a ship, one wrecked by the tentacles of its culture. The words, the influence, their shackles that hold me down.
The language sailors like me sing and shout about today, Trapping me forever more in my perceived possibilities.
My perception is deep, my reality is dank, all because my self sank. along with my reality and the chance I had to live & enjoy the now.
I’ve walked the plank, I’ve drank and drank, I feel ever so low, ever so rank. All because I let the rain in, why couldn’t I see the sun and let it shine on my self?