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Notice (a response to 152 by Shane Koyczan)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pqg5kGlgjB4

1 in 5 tells a story, and it doesn’t seem like much until you start scaling it up:
20 out of a hundred…
200 out of a thousand…
1.46 Billion out of the 7.3 Billion people living today…

They’re a minority, it’s true.
4 out of every 5 don’t doubt or despair,
don’t travel to the darkest of places,
where they don’t see a way out.

But some days
people win the lottery –
the one that no one wants to win –
and they get to be 1 in 5.

Some days I’m lucky,
and I get to be 1 in 5 too.
Some days I’m luckier,
and I get to be one of the 4 in 5.

Today I’m not the 1,
but today is the one
when I need to point out the 1
so that 4 out of 5 people

Notice.

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Human Being

On the bad days,
on the rock-bottom days,
when I’m all out of fucks to give,
I don’t want to be a good man.

I want to be a Blade,
and be the avenger
that puts this war-crazy world
to the sword.

I want to be a Beast,
and show everyone
how well I learned
their dog-eat-dog lessons.

I want to be a Demon,
and command the night
when I walk without fear
past the sheeple in the gloom.

I want to be The Devil,
and give you something to hate,
because I’ve seen how much you love to hate,
and tonight I want to make your dreams come true.

But I also want to be The Better Man,
so I take this feral blade,
this devil among devils,
and sheathe him,
giving myself fresh scars in the process.

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Moonshine

Strangers in the evening,
and strangers in the morning.
But while the night lasts…

They are the Stars
of the next Hollywood hit,
so suave and sophisticated
that their courtship seems choreographed.

They are pure energy,
a magnetic attraction
as impossible to resist
as it is to ignore.

They are a spectacle
that draws everyone’s eyes,
and causes couples to crash
from rubbernecking their romance.

They are a summer storm –
heavy, hot, and humid,
crashing against each other
with thundering laughter and lust.

But when the night has passed
and dawn breaks the spell at last,
two people unsure of what to say
turn and walk their separate ways
from a night that means nothing – and everything.

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Trance

Dreamy shadows,
smoke and whiskey,
the long, waxing burn
of an evening.

The soft sensation
tingling at the tips of your fingers.
The taste of a kiss
that burns past the dawn.

A lingering memory,
rosy past its bloom.
A night you barely remember.
A night you won’t forget.

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Syllabant

I’ll teach you to fear the Night –
to creep at the edge of the light,
and how your little street lamps
won’t keep you safe.

I’ll teach you how loud the Silence is –
how the weight of it rings,
like an old, rotten bell,
you’re terrified of breaking.

I’ll teach you how full the Shadows are –
and show you an army of monsters
that hide beyond the corners of your eyes,
hungry for a sign of weakness.

I’ll teach you about real Power –
when the snapping of a stick
barely as long as your hand
makes you jump a mile.

I’ll teach you about Terror,
and then sit back to enjoy the show
as you destroy yourself
from the inside out.

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Tea party

I’m so very tired,
of what I see on TV:
the Adonis, the Adona
prominently displayed.

I do not mean to say
that they are not praiseworthy,
but where are the people
who look like me?

Where are the crows feet,
and the other battle scars of aging?
Where are the acne scars,
and the stretch marks?

Where are the five-o’clock shadows
and the two-day stubble?
Where are the casual clothes –
because fuck this suit and tie.

Instead we are presented with
perfection, waxed and polished,
practiced in the mirror,
and previously recorded
so it could be whitewashed.

Instead they display a still life,
desperately clinging onto life.
But life is movement and change,
and I watch them as I walk by,
smiling at me with the dull eyes of dolls.

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Exhibit

They call me “naked”,
but that is not true.
At best, they see me nude.

All that they can see of my body,
the scars and stretch marks,
no more define me
than would my shadow.

To see me naked
is to look beneath my skin
at the raw, emotional heart
beneath the still facade.

And for all the efforts to strip me down
and set me on display,
they will only ever see a body –
they will never find the real me.

Because I am a party
that is invitation-only,
and it’s hard to earn a ticket
to the symphony of my soul.

So call me what you will,
but know I’ll judge your words,
and if you dig this deep and call me “naked”,
then I think you’re being shallow.

If you like my work, please consider supporting me through Patreon where you can get early access to posts, exclusive content, and more.