Reaching

It’s so damn hard.

Strangling on a damn road, you didn’t chose anything.

The time, scrambled. A job, want me even on days I very much want to say screw it.

I don’t know even if it was a dream job I want my on hours and days.

Talk of if you like, it’s not a job, it’s a magical place you love to be and wake up and ask where the hake theses winkles come from ese?

Smdh not true. Even a dream is relaxing.

Something some fool who wants you to work a lifetime like a damn slave for.

Struggle is real.

Waking up realizing what your place is.

A lot similar to those people, you see in every movie. You know the ones whose class is visible dirt in their nail, barely sleep in their eyes, and when doom is present like late to party to hide. First wave of Wipeout.

Mom called me nasty, as if I put in no effort. Don’t see how such a woman ever get married. Is why I’m so fucked. I never drinked. My brain cells is well I got some.

Her husband and her tsk what shitty parents. No seriously 10 kids and really all screwed.

What was the benefit? Really. See what happens to the body in each pregnancy?

This woman wants to call someone nasty after buying spray body that literally claims you spray the surface and go in her tub. But I’m the nasty one by going all out in my tubs.

I still use elbow grease.

Never smoke it’s just not my thing.

I’m loud. I could say, but not always. I guess I scream in the crowd because these people, never hear me.

Yeah I’m secure that all my life I shuffled pretty good the cards dealt.

My heart is on my sleeves and I could tear it off but it’s been there since birth so that’s it’s home.

My neck and back shoulder burden that aren’t easy to carry like. Reality is just a 7 letter word no one lives. Even Steve Harvey working double shifts.

I just fucking want to pull off Monday through Friday from 9-2 for $15 an hour. I know it’s out there.

That’s not just some pipe dream.

I want 4 cars under my own bloody name without the struggle of 24/7 on call for $7.25.

Like seriously.

Our bodies like cars driven to the ground and a miracle to still run.

I can imagine the coroner looking at my corpse. “This woman’s body man.” Police go ” ah huh family killed her? What is up?”

Coroner with a horrified scare in his eyes and tears run to his chin.

“Can I put her back?”

Officer not sure what to say or do. “Um Jimmy you ok”? Coroner looks up and throws a fit. ” Shes dead her will clearly asks to be cremation let’s just respect that and get her the hell out here.”

Officer “so it was natural cause?” Coroner looks “yes.” Officer “wounds on her neck?”

Coroner” stress.”

I tried Tobe considerate. Psk that’s the last thing I get back. At work, at home, on the streets, just everywhere.

Is it just me or does America seem more tactical. How to get back, all these things. When pianist had piano, singers voice, etc. Wonder what could you do when you lose it all.

The price you pay to be number one, on top, in anything. Was it worth it?

Bloody hell it’s something just to scrap by.

People say money talk. You mean those bills of dead faces are speaking to you. Yeah I sleep better not hearing dead people thank you.

What is the worth of a man? The piggy back onto success?

Shuffling trough life making bets, this would work if I just try.

Oh but I make this much

To go to college or not, that is the question.

Is a person life the value of what cash flow in his account?

If so the deduction of moral, dignity, self value and respect counts for nothing.

The days of Revelation is at hand. I guess so are the attachments, and chains.