Conscious thought poem

I wear these shoes although they are too small, as if I won’t go out and buy another pair, or another type, or another pair.

My mind says to never stop wearing those shoes, because they are my shoes, the right pair of shoes for me, they were not meant for anyone else to wear.

I do not want to get rid of the shoes, the shoes I first performed in, green like mossy leaf, and how much longer will they last before the leather peels off the bottom, peels off the ides peels into curls of blackness, the same cake you remember buying from the store, the one with the curls of chocolate on top, dark, curls of leather, like the ones peeling off of my shoes.

I bought the cake because my grandmother did not like shrimp, which made me cry, and so we bought the cake. The cake was eaten fast.

That same year, I planted tomatoes in our yard and those tomatoes in our yard begin to grow, like a stop motion movie, they become tall, green, flourishing in the light.

I love the feeling of dirt on my hands. It holds so many stories, stories of the cow, stories of the mice, stories of what it used to be, who walked over it, if it can smell when the plants are ready to grow.

If my life was a fantasy story, I would be happy. When I was a child, I tried and tried to find the portal to another world, one better and more exciting than my own, but I never could, not through writing reading or watching television. Sometimes I thought I had a clue of where to look, in a dream, but I never could find my lakshmir.

No one knows of this secret failure of mine, no one but me, and my disappointment in myself. Surely the thought on your wide open face is that she is not a happy person, she is sad. And I will reply that you wear your heart on your sleeve whereas I try to hide mine, hide it beneath the surface of myself, try to get rid of fear. And you will say aren’t you afraid of that? Of letting go? Why are you putting this into a poem if this is one of your fears, and I will reply that this is why I am Putting this in here, to face my fears, when it is shared among you, t live alone with my emotions, alone in my head, my brain a mess of thoughts and feeling that I cannot let go, because once I start I will not be able to close the floodgates, and I will go mad from not being able to control myself. That is my greatest fear, not being able to control myself. Because I will never stop, never be able to stop because of my pride.

I hate my pride because it stops me from doing what I need to do most, ask for help, or get a hug.

And that is why I do not like being touched, from shaking hands to getting hugged, because my pride is screaming out to get the hell away, leave me alone, because I don’t need your charity. I’m sorry if I just hurt your feelings, but that’s the way I fell, and It won’t change.