Live your life, she said

This poem is dedicated to Daniel Alcantara and Kessia Reyne Bennett.

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Live your life, she said [10.24.12]

Sometimes, I find my voice wanders to conversations I did not seek. Running quick, like predators are on the chase, I soon realize it was a trap.

G.K. Chesterton said mad men do not need reason, do not need an argument or clever rhetoric. They need to gasp fresh air into their shriveled lungs and mind.

Who is this writer anyways? To what goal does he aim? Who gave him authority to put ink to paper, and scribble something about love and spirituality?

It is in these moments, I think of you. The way you would run your hand through your hair, thick and black, proceed to utter a sentence beginning with, “Basically...”

And I ask myself, what will it come to? The fluorescent light casts shadows upon my bed creating a theatre from books and pens. Creating a make believe world I can turn off at any moment.

But that is not how this works, I am never one to wait, anyways. My mind returns to the scripture about fruit in season. “He doesn’t abandon,” she added.