Soliloquy: I Was A Thinker Before You...

The picture contains statistics. Inspired, I will try to write at least one soliloquy a week for my fans. (If any)

How do you play with matches?  To light them with an altered purpose?  One that isn't natural, they say.  What happened to fun, smoking and calling names...

The people stare, but I don't care, I have this slightly figured out.  The words I fashion can barely match the ability of them to gawk. Mocking concern.  Sometimes I can barely hear their fragile voices, so seemingly tortured, yet so innocent in comparison to any form of suffering I have learned to know.  The few, the proud, the hood.  I never asked for it, so I consider blessed by it is a better term.  There was no childhood.  Independence not won, but forced upon before the time had come.  Much instability and stress still lingers in the back of my head, and I think the pain in my neck is a mess of chemical in-balance, but you  don't hear me in the foreground, bitching about how something small like chores, saying you hate your mother, when you love her.  It's sick, fucked up, wrong to every degree I can possibly think.  How could you hate that which gives you life?  It might take a while, but trust me you will rethink.  Everything.  Your innocence and belligerence bewilders my mind.  This imaginative suffering, plastic faces, and robotic innards.  A robot with human hair, stop staring.

Author's Note

Thank you for reading, feedback appreciated.

Reviews

[NoneOfYourBusiness akaK..]

the stir of echoes scream and weep in every single line~ you have this capacity~ I've noticed~ to dig very deep into the marrow of thoughts and unwind them from tangles into coherent brands of vision for the reader~ your writing here moves at penetrating speed~ the unchildhood you speak of I understand intimately which is why I can completely immerse and more than read this poem~ I can feel it through its raw pulse~

[Coyote Poetry]

I like the wisdom in your words.
"How could you hate that which gives you life?"
Sometime we complain for no purpose. I believe better to allow the small things to fall to the side of the road and move on. I like the last line. A story with purpose and reason. Thank you.
Coyote

[loowzerX]

I think this is very well written. I love how you develop it as a short writing and at the end use the flashing of images. wonderful

[David W Moore III]

I love how this writing moves. It starts slow then speeds up and by the end is flashing by you in a series of images. You have a way with words, that is evident.