Landmines

Nah no more selling myself for chocolate

for a sugar wrapped up

it boxes me into my own brain

a landmine of pleasure

it makes me tremor

(‘it’s plain that I think that I need it’?)

I used to measure my kale before it went in the steamer

all the cupboards were full of chicken and cottage cheese

my health was messy

I thought it couldn’t be cleaner

a counterculture to addiction

I created duality

More of me on a mission

it was creating my prison

the only answer to the energy I have to spend

was not to spend…

but my mind breaks into my problems

the ones it tries to mend

it rips them.

then i feel like a fool for not knowing,

but seeing is the only tool that I needed, no showing:

It performs itself in a moment of no judgement

Closed curtains open

No justification

The red is gone.

condemnation is a road to (‘a subtle’?) obliteration

I feel empty and heavy now that I ate the cake

a body shatters that I tried to make

my cloudy head chokes my sense

and all the steps I made.

I’m like the last runner tripping in the relay

Like a dog with a flat nose

I feel the pedigree of an addict-
going at it (‘biting back it’s’?)

Going rabbid in my thoughts..

fuck the feeling I want more-

-I always taught to listen to the feeling

cause the feeling has more meaning

than a thought could have

but now a thought has got me

by the throat

Needing a boat I rush down to the river

not for the water but the exercise…

I need to be thinner

Feeling like I’m pulled high and low at the same time

Fingers trembling

Hoping to find my feet in the future

So I can sink down from my dreams

To stop averting landmines of pleasure

Cause pleasure has no need to be pain

and I have no need to eat for leisure.

—————–

This is actually a first draft of a spoken word poetry piece that I have been working on a set for recently.

It felt appropriate to share it on this blog.

Stay strong. x

-Ben

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