Polishing elbow grease

Resilient and totalled. The more tragic the better.
Slipping into the fog of the everyday.
Scratching out words on my chest that read ‘subservient’.
Feeling the need to speak a little less often?
Scrolling and sighing, the faceless ghosts who rush through me.
Unsure of which direction.
My own uncertainty.
Yet asking assistance means I’m incapable?
You expect me to get up like them, sit down and in line colour.
To work for money I do not need. What types of people would I be dealing with anyway?
Like me? My tribe? I wonder and I think not.
If I were less filled with fire. Dripping in normalcy.
Cut off from my soul and dead from the waist down.
Then I would be joining them.


4 thoughts on “Polishing elbow grease

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s