Future

She plays with the paper on the other end of the tea bag
As if that will stanch the drips from her emotional eyes.
She tells me hope is a powerful choice.
It is a choice.
They do not control me if I am free.
Her fingers stumble with the weight of her ring
And it will be the image burned into my mind,
Although it is of no significance to me
It holds a lifetime of choice.
Her choice.
I am the seed that is meant to grow.
I am not the passive play toy of others desires.
This is a choice.
Tomorrow I will write my own choices.
I will make amends only to myself.
I am alone in myself,
A maze of opportunity and self-written despair.
I am the final choice and the only situation at hand.
I cannot find things that are not there unless I create them.
I promise myself that I chose that moment
And I enjoyed the burn of reality as the consequence washed down my throat.
The limelight hits me on the otherwise black stage.
Each of us is up here of her own accord
Ready to free our passions and try to make dents in our own lives.
This is the freedom I live for.
I love the tingle that runs its course.
It is toxic free alcohol for me.
I confess I chose that bike as I ran for a taste of something
That I now realize I found
In the nights soaked with blunt truth.
But it was lost quickly with the sunlight
And the salt & vinegar chips with off-brand coke and kinder eggs.
I remember.
We did things.
Painted emotion on the side of the half pipe.
Dropped the metal lunchbox from the top of the parking garage.
I ran from the police.
I followed the action,
Not because I enjoyed hiding in that corner of piss and graphite
But because I wanted to find freedom.
I slept under a blanket of frozen air and stared at the moon
As it over powered the stars.
I was free, but it wasn’t real.
I chose to come back to protection
Because I knew that flying was not forever
And I would someday fall.
Consequence always tracks down the action.
This was an attempt to accept me,
Not the folly of your bribes and punishments.
I confess that I play the victim well,
For I don’t wish for the full weight of life
To come raining down on my shoulders like bricks.
I confess that the ache in my head
Is from trying to surpass what I have learned
And find a place that I know is there.
I want to come from there.
I chose to come from there.
I will make the laws my own so I can break them upon occasion.
There are many words
But not enough to lighten a burden.
I must admit that I wanted to sit safe
With the sporadic daring act.
I wanted more then I can have.
But seriously, I understand.
I can contemplate both roads.
And I remember taking the road that led me home.