On Roads Too Big For Us.

My shoes have leeches and the leeches have swords,
and I can’t manufacture enough words to power the streetlights,
so you can see why it gets so dark in here.

These feet refuse to be attached to my ankles.
I’m dangling by a deceiving thread
between a city that was good for my diet
and a city that looks like it can devour me whole.

All the people inside of me are at war.

Right now, the road is foggy even though it’s mid afternoon
like I’m driving under the influence
but I am only influenced by my sweaty fingers
being too small for the steering wheel.

Confidence was never a language I was fluent in
and ambition has never been too kind to me.
So when I give these pests a piece of my mind,
it always looks like last night’s leftovers.
I’m left cowering under praises that were sung in another time.

Like in hindsight, maybe we are all bananas
maybe we do rot as we get older.
I’ve been told that this world was only meant
for people who know how to take gracefully,
but I’ve never learnt how to silence the belly ache
that has been this desire to spit out everything I have ever been given.

My parents might as well have named me Indecision-
all my choices look like they have grown horns,
and now there are thorns on the pavement,
and the tar has disappeared,
and I have forgotten my way back home.
I no longer know if home is someplace I need to be.

If I pay no attention to all this space, will it try to stop existing?