HBK. June 2023.

Back to the drawing board

Nothin to draw with

A blank canvas, worn in places

Torn in certain pieces

Staring back at me as if

I’m the issue

Like I’m the reason

It isn’t in its best shape

 

But the more I look at it

The more I realize how much

The canvas and I have in common

Nothing I’d like to admit

Yet accountability gotta be held

And there’s nobody to blame

The canvas is just here

 

I look at the canvas a bit more

That’s when I start to see faces

The faces of the people that

I don’t see anymore

The people that, at one point,

Held a great amount of weight

Took a great amount of space

In my life, someway. Somehow.

 

Yet they don’t stay there long

Almost as quick as a gust of wind blows

They were there, and then they were gone

Then there were their voices

Almost melding together to make a universal chant

All saying different things, but almost like a choir

A choir with no direction, yet in unison

 

The more I stared, the more faces meshed

The more voices, the louder they got

It became an antagonizing chant

Like they were all trying to tell me the same thing

While it all managed to turn into a crippling sound

 

Closing my eyes and ears only help so much

As if restricting myself from the sights and sounds

Made them revolt and turn into nearly blood curdling noises

That’s when I decided the board had to come down

one swing of my fist, and it broke in half

Everything went quiet

It was just me and a broken, blank board

Did I feel better afterward? Somewhat.

Doesn’t change the fact that now,

The canvas is in two.

A remnant of what it once was

As a whole

Same way the heart I’ve carried

For almost 30 years now

Has been trying to feel whole

When it’s only felt broken up to this point

 

 - DD3