Poem By: Billy Alsbrooks
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I’m on Amazon trying to get a life
But not quite sure what to type in the search engine?
Can I get free shipping?
If I’m not happy can I return it?
See I’m the type of person, if I don’t like something, I’ll leave a bad review
So don’t test my prime baby
I ain’t the one
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Love is in the hair
But can you feel what’s real?
Or do you just see the highlights?
We hide in our heads to avoid living
Living in embarrassment of the bodies our souls wear
No designer bag can carry that weight
Yet we continue to try
Try what never worked
Hoping to get a different result
Why do we do this?
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We’re not comfortable with us
It makes no sense
Why do we lease what we can own?
Why do we settle for pretending?
Pretending to be an ugly version of ourselves
The beauty in our authentic is so gorgeous
It deserves more light than causal Friday
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Painful is the path to acceptance
That’s why we spend so much on therapy
Who knows how to save face?
How to switch pace in a savage space
But that’s the magic in high art
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We’re the canvass without a museum
Everyday seeking a new wall to hang from
As we drip with living color, the people at Sotheby’s bid on us
What’s the going rate for insecurity?
Whatever it is, they’ll tell us
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I’m just articulating what we both feel
What we’re both too ashamed to say
Am I right?
I’m mean let’s be real,
Am I right?
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What do we do, when we don’t know what to do?
Dive into the matrix of course
Let us get lost on tiktok
Admiring the lives of other fools
Envying the relationships of other people
Faking a life that they too have never found
But at least now, we know some cool make up tricks
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Who taught us to turn off our instincts?
There’s always been an allure for the dangerous
Dream big then die snoring
You deserve to feel good
Feel good and celebrate your truth
Don’t buy their definition of beauty
Even on sale, It’s too expensive
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Stay wild at heart
Soak up the waters of life
You don’t need dream cream to imagine
Imagine the little girl in you
The little girl with curl power
Resurrect that feisty spoiled princess who didn’t care
Didn’t care what anyone thought
You can be her again
If you want to,
You can be her again
Just tell me and I’ll bring the crayons
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Why do we attempt to write new chapters
New chapters with the same old story
With the same old people who never understood us
Hoping to end up on the red carpet
Hoping someone will discover
Discover in us what we’ve never found
We’re just kung Foo Fighters, kicking for breath
Like Taylor Hawkins, drumming to death
The rhythm of insecurity…
