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Originality: Fallacy

Taken to the strings from the ink and pen
Thoughts somehow begin to formulate again…
And once more, I have the dream.
Destiny prevailed in the timeline of my youth
Though the biography is written, blood for oil—
Eye for tooth.
Things change, time shifts
Though my spirits lift-
There is always the downfall in confidence.
People I once knew now making it
And the girl I once was proves what I fear…
I’m faking it.
As I talk to the ceiling fan, blades all turning
She eats safety pins and bleeds chai tea
And the very thought of ever making it outside this room
Is stomach churning…
To be free.
But once was can never be—
There are those who start books and finish them
And those who give up on the plot.
To say what is had has been got
Is a fallacy
And a reflection of the incompetence that is me
It’s all fun and games when there’s a roof to hide you
Then times stops, hearts drop
And the man that once was beside you—
Is dwelling on the image that he once knew…
The ghost of you.
I’ve started once more with the same pattern
It’s just so fucking hard to think in a new prose
Longer nose, stronger toes, but God knows…
Originality is only unique for so long.
Conforming to the thought of difference
And indifference
Gunshots fire at a cross section to remind you where you live
It takes a lot to give…
Blood for oil.
Eye for tooth.
Then you realize…
Creativity is the ability-
To accept déjà vu.

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Pablo Neruda

I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You

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