Why is it that I store undies I never wear in my panty drawer and leave no room for my favorites? Why is it that I have things in cupboards that have not seen the light of day in years, but they are kept as sacred? I don’t use my storage for me it is saved for obligation to inherited obsession. I live on the fringes of the only life I have; I didn’t question this, didn’t see it for what it really is. I don’t live in my skin only my head. I don’t enjoy today only plan for tomorrow. After years at this address it is time for me to move in. The mortgage is more than paid; it is time to spend my inheritance.
Be kind when you win; be kind when you lose
I turn and spin, the world flashes as I go.
I am erect, proud of my self-possession.
I can stand the forces of vector rotation
Public opinion and gravity.
Sobriety has made a dancer out of me.
I sprint the stage and take my place.
I know the moves and trust, as best I can
The choreographer and choreography
I feel the wind move on my body as I revolve
The blur of existence spreads out before me
I can let it pass
To spot myself and keep my upright posture
The only place that requires my clear and unobstructed view
Is the line of sight from my sponsors eyes to mine.