theteachingscribe

thruheadphones:

Done 

Self-explanatory.

(Source: paul-escalante)

If I’m acting inconsiderate, 

Trust me, it’s deliberate. 

I’m cursing, she’s crying

There’s no denying 

We’re both upset. 

I’m pissed that she’s lazy 

She hates my quiet raging 

Words are only weapons 

In this situation. 

I don’t wanna talk 

I wanna be hurt and upset 

Let me live in my anger for a little bit. 

At work I can’t scream, 

Because I’ll feel like shit. 

And after you blow up at kids, 

They never forget it.

At home I can’t scream, 

My family will act distant. 

Then neighbors impose good cheer 

And everyone’s in my business. 

Just let me enjoy this visit to Miseryville, 

Still…

The closer she comes, 

Taking a brave step. 

Communication is overrated, 

But now it’s all we need. 

When it comes to mental anguish 

Neither of us can read. 

But I feed off her energy, 

And she feasts on mine 

To ease my worries and her doubts 

For love to be revived. 

Our sore eyes are magnetized 

As we do our “real talk” session, 

Spewing our raw footage, 

Complete with bonus confessions. 

If there’s a lesson to be learned, 

Maybe it’s this:

That life is too short 

To sweat the petty shit. 

Just make up or be done with it.

With his words, he scorches the competition.

Listen to his precision;

Syllables soaked in truth to produce a raging venom.

His throat is tense while his temples start to glisten. 

The tongue of a photograph, he’s vivid in his delivery,

With every word, he shuts down doubts and theories.

Ambition flows though his nostrils;

He’s lit like a furnace.

Nobody yearns more for the number one spot, 

He deserves it!

A messy brawl is certain,

Until they close the curtains

His words will be daggers that penetrate the surface

That society will refurbish, again and again.

They never want imperfection in a position to win.

But who should listen to them?

The spinners of wild webs filled with tasty lies,

With words like “You can do it too, look on the bright side,”

While the undertone is “You’re ok if you’re on the right side.”

Innocent kids are mocked for their skin color and speech,

So they run and they hide;

Seeds of self-hatred fester inside,

And they don’t know if what they see in the mirror should be treasured,

Or that a scale of 1 to 10 is not how character’s measured.

The burning truth swirls around in his head,

Deep in his subconscious.

The one-sidedness is nearly making him nauseous,

But oh, how it’ll cost them to overlook something great,

In the shade of age-old dreams, an apocalypse awaits.

To destroy the perception they never thought would break.

His shift from focus to fury will feel like an earthquake.

But his will they can never take

As he steps out in faith;

The lone flamethrower awaits his chance to incinerate

The competition.