Rude Thoughts

I was never hard, really black, or a man. I can walk into a bar and disappear or get beat up. I please my body like an alcoholic father raises a family. I lie like I hate the truth from my bones. I do these things well.
I don't see much of myself anyways. Just the mirror in the morning and twice when I pee during the day. Escape is the key on this planet. So why have mirrors? To look and see my teeth, which should be whiter? To see my skin that screams dirty? Or maybe it is the eyes. Looking into my eyes I always struggled seeing both at the same time. Is that weird? If I look long enough I see a silver lining around the lens.

I am just me. I learned that is not a good thing to be me, but everyone tells you otherwise. So I lie. When I am a somebody I will care about me. Whoever I am. Maybe I am a dog, money, vagina? Maybe. I need value. What is value, money? Could value be measured if we really wanted to generalize the worth of a human? I am sure we have tried. These thoughts are rude and they come from my heart. My stained heart. Covered in oil and barb wire. Awaiting the source of all that inspires anyone, the truth, to set me free. Yes, my thoughts always lean towards p a i n.

Lovely pain. Eureka! Pain is the key and the door is the heart. Well, probably not.