Words of a broken voice box.

It’s All My Fault….

on

Changing the brainwave of what my dream has envisioned with a stretch,yawn, and erection. Slowly rub the hardened mucus that has entrapped my sight on reality. Stare and flex into the thickened glass of a creation made by thoughts and molecules from within. I crack the air bubbles inside the structure for temporary revilement releasing the gas for mobility. Strap on my face of joy to deal with the undealt to spread the joy of my pocket and there needs. I speak to the sharks, consistently wiping my cell phone as a constant flow of marshmallows start to create a film over my mobile device. While the sharks are laughing due to my voice, i leave a repeated echo in they’re ear for a distraction to open a wound on the back end. As I smell the blood in the air and hear the coins fall, i leave my suitcase beneath the opening. Once it overflows I bandage the cut, lick the blood off my fingers, so it doesn’t stain the leather of my suitcase. Walking down the ave looking shiny and sleek, expensive loafers, leather jackets and diamonds shimmering off my wrist blinding my surroundings of who I really am. The costume I have put together was expensive and seen by many eyes as a Villain or a Super Hero. Majority of the day the villain is active but, only to feed the super hero as he awaits in his head quarters to reap all the benefits. I smile to those I love to receive love back, and I smile to those I don’t love just to receive a handshake as the other hand plunges inside there heart draining every ounce of blood I require to proceed towards my success without leaving a mark as they are memorized by the 7.5k smile that they helped pay for. After the bloody money has been stored in its coffin it gets put towards dreams of achievements. After the villain drains your energy into my soul, we use it to create a better super hero and fly in dreams that I choose to live which most people could only dream of. The grey I live in is color blind to the many people who believe they see my true colors. I take away peoples hard work they have earned, I steal peoples powers they have been granted, I rob peoples bank account with offers they cant refuse, I swipe loved ones off there feet and take them away from loved ones, and all done with a simple smile and a slow walk. But is it my fault? Is it my fault I work harder than the last person? Is it my fault I am 10 steps ahead of the last person by doing my research? Is it my fault I busted my ass to kick yours? Is it my fault you took my offer to make my bank bigger? Is it my fault your girl is attracted to me because I do what it takes to be a better person? Is it my fault I wake up everyday to do what it takes to accomplish a dream that I seek to achieve? So is it my fault?….. Yes, it is my fault….

About Jay Isip

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