Words Workshops Presents: Y For You

A sample of what can be found in the words workshop HERE.

Y For You 

I once left you a pen, with some hope that you would begin again, you know writing, letting the ink serve as the fuel for your lighting device as we navigate through the dark depths of your mind. Inception is relative to the sign too bad I’m no Leo, and as the clocks move closer to zero its only time that matters before your thoughts commit crimes that are especially heinous, searching for the SVU while the body get so weak, no SWV. Heartbeats come to a stand still as your hand continues to sit still, I wish that I could ask the real you to please stand up as the others sit in silence. Fraudulence hinders the magnificent memories that were left in the form of memoirs that painted faces white like the geisha's of yesteryear. You once told me that you could create stories  with only twenty-six letters stitched together like freshly knit leathers worn by Mr. West, feel that en-compassing feeling as we lecture to the masses like our days are spent in classes were teachers are actually preachers and we are all sinners for speaking our minds. While we listen our ideals stray away out the back door like a thief moving out of the store he has stolen from. Don’t become the man who sells himself for profit, or live to become the Judas among the prophets. Kissing your saving grace goodbye I say that is a fitting story for a fellow who has fallen so far that life alert couldn’t pick him back up. I watched you one day aimlessly wander onto the linoleum tiles looking to pray to the porcelain goddess promising never to succumb to spirits again. Strangers surround you like a sound system blaring and bleeping word at you, they abuse your childish mind so bad that you begin to question if the design of God is actually a dinner date with the devil, spoon feeding you stories of glory and insanity as you look to me to help catch your breath while drowning in the lake of fire, now that’s what I call a burning desire. As long as I have known you I’ve wanted to be like the Ned-like neighbor, constantly looking over Homer, the practical poet or literary overcomer, this summer formed a world of new becomers behaving as if they had no home training, yourself included. I just ask don’t let my words get diluted as you look for a solution out of this acidic reaction rusting away your once strong frames. Whatever woes you once had will be lost, reach out to the light as you feel the darkness drawing your soul that was once deeply rooted in the soil. You told me the time you used grass to grow to the sky, a false high for a once fly guy, we’ve got you looking to give God a hi-five because he prefers the handshake seeing as that was makes a man. I watched you stray away from the once great plan, we would stay up all night searching for stars to wish upon, oh how have we become so undone. Undercooked despite all the heat and pressure used to produce a diamond from our carbon copies. To you whom I love I wish you would wipe away the droplets and make deposits into my cardiac treasure chest, where no pirate played by Johnny can plunder. So you ask mirror mirror on the wall, does anybody love me at all. I want to respond and make the suffering end, so that’s why I left you a pen.

~Cheshire