DYING TO BE LOVED (Poem By Dr. Billy Alsbrooks)

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DYING TO BE LOVED

Poem By: Dr. Billy Alsbrooks

Connection eludes me, 

that’s the offspring of hating myself

There’s no such thing as inner stability when you put your reflection up for adoption

Is the fire in us greater than the cold of the world?

Or is the whole game rigged for us to destroy ourselves?

The bigger the house, the bigger the hole in the soul

The more square feet, the greater the distance between us

There’s no Heimlich maneuver for the one choking on anger   

You just sit there and suffocate alone

Let the wolves pick through the bones

Phone ain’t rang in weeks, but they say they love me 

Well if that’s love, hate me then so I can breathe

Their disease seeks to overtake my mind 

But I lost that years ago 

To put on this facade each day is nauseating 

I went numb driving and saw the road melt into a Dali painting 

Have you have struggled to keep your vehicle in between the lines?

Times are dark for the chosen one

Too disgusted to watch from the bleacher seats 

Muddy cleats that trample all over the in crowd

Plow over their rejection just to inflict pain on myself

They seek to buy what’s never on sale

I seek to fly and do the thinking for myself 

Help the stranger that doesn’t recognize himself

Till he sees himself as someone familiar 

Would you flirt with you?

Do you turn you on?

Would you ask you for your phone number?

Would you have a deep monogamous relationship with you?

The one who needs a crowd usually ends up solo

That type of love affair is touch and go

Hadn’t spoke in years, but Adele said hello

The honesty In her piano waved with compassion 

Blasting my soul with the mistakes of yesterday

What truths do you have the hardest time acknowledging?

Maybe we’re both lost on the same track

Running like ancient Olympian’s for glory and gold

Trying to pour in ourself, but there’s this massive hole

We spew our self worth out onto the barren soil

Dying for attention, we murder ourselves for approval 

But even at our funeral, they scroll their Facebook newsfeed 

Dancing or doing some stupid video for tiktok

Our headstone in the background as they dance with the stars 

Bored of this planet, I’m going with Elon to Mars

The red planet, befitting for the one who feels like the red headed step child 

Meanwhile, I’ll sit here and pretend I’m someone else 

Somebody actually worthy of your precious attention 

That is If I can google map that dimension?

Neck stress and tension

Hang around for my emotional lynching 

Dying to be loved…

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