Doubt
This is something on doubt. Is it doubt or just a lack of understanding? Do you doubt me or do I doubt myself? Maybe I doubt myself because you doubt me. What are you scared of? I wonder. What about me. Free. Makes you tremble, shake in your boots. Who lied to you? I wonder. There is no right or wrong yet your thinking makes it so. Exist. Be. Move. Flow like water in no particular direction. Or in every direction at once. Upstream, down the river, underneath the surface in a whirlpool. Still. On the lake. What difference does the outcome make? When the only outcome to seek is any outcome at all. It’s the doing. The having done that matters. Not the applause or the statue or the finish line. There is no finish line. This is an endless journey. No cover to open the book closed. Don’t you see that? I wonder about your journey. Your footsteps from Tennessee to Los Angeles The trail you left behind. The leaves you stepped on. The dirt those leaves call pillow. I wonder why as you walk you don’t acknowledge their existence. If you only look ahead to your destination I gather you’ll never make it there. Because it is living you have been seeking all along. Don’t you see it? That you are passing up all your dreams. Spoiling the ecstasy and wasting the trip. Who or what planted the seeds of doubt? I used to doubt that I’d doubt you now I doubt that I can’t. Don’t be a slave to the manmade. To the idols and their ideals. Don’t be the leaf I carry until...only until it’s time for bed on the pillows of your path. Because I doubt I can stay longer without starting to doubt. The torture it must be to fear change and never go off path. When only then might I discover what I didn’t know I wanted but have never felt so strong. Are you sad? I wonder. Following the herd. A one-way ticket to the house on the corner with the car-dog-cat-billy-sally climbing trees. How’s that life? I wonder. I’m on my third, or fourth, I don’t know. Because I doubt I see the day I don’t stray from the path. I am the boyfriend with no job. No car. No home. I am your loser. Use me up for the street cred you missed on the way. Or am I actually your detour? Did you see me coming? I wonder. Why aren’t you running? I wonder. Why am I standing here? There’s no quicksand around me. I wish the answers were as loud as the Doubt.
Escape Room
Locked in a Box Locked me in a Box Like askin’ if I cock or I box Labels My passion as profitable as socks And not the capitalistic, like 1 for 1 Like Toms Not soothing like… Tums Pen down, no words Mums. Mm mm good Hear the hums? The sound of drums The Tap Of thumbs The Dot Dot Dot Of a blank page Locked in a Box Locked me in a Box Like askin’ if I cock fight or if I box What age am I a threat - mouth grazed What stage am I the best - hand raised Ain’t been called on yet. Locked in a Box Locked me in a Box Like askin’ if I’m dog or I’m fox Tell me No No No But I got bills bills bills And they pile up after all the blow Locked in a Box Locked in my own Box Locked in a… Damn, not MY box Glass ceilings with no emergency exits Doors surrounding me with no handles Locked inside of a, Damn, NOT my Box Allowed to mourn for 28 days in February Allowed to dance for 30 days in June Then back to my box I said what I said what I said cuz I meant it It’s been 400 years and we still feel it We do what we do what we do But you’re flyin it in But We got on Yeezys You feel me? NO, do you hear me? Locked inside a...don’t know what box. And therein lies the genius
Sugar
The
Apple of my eye
My sweet potato pie
So icy
Check the bags
Beside me, elevate my swag
Strawberry
Pancakes
Wont keep you away
But my batter better
Thicker fatter
You say.
Pinky promise
Pinky swear
Of the day with triple layered
Cake cake cake
White on white like you like
But the accent blackity black
Under homemade lights
We dance the night away
I got the bottles on ice, something sweet to match your taste
Watchem, check and protest
Let em check, and protest
But I’m here, you’re here
Pray that we stay
Mad House
The whole truth is
I am meant for you.
The more I object
The more apparent it becomes.
It’s like simple math
With ancient unyielding rules.
One plus one will always equal two.
I see no rhyme or reason that doesn’t include you.
My Muse of love
In happiness and in Grief.
How many lives (will it take) do you think?
Past? Future?
The present is a gift They say
But a cruel one it seems.
As you evade me
Oiled up when I grasp
And a SHARP slip between my fingers.
Does it not sting?
Do I not linger?
The thought of your mind racing for another does mine
A Fun House of damage.
I’m stuck inside
I see your reflection
Not mine.
Skipping endlessly from mirror to mirror.
As I spin and spin
With a smile so wide
And a dream catcher in my right.
As I turn and I turn.
You dance circles around my thoughts
And skip to your own, trip to your own.
Beat. Me to the.
Punch. Me in the.
Guts. You have.
I’m tired. No, weary.
My smile fades and I think I see the light.
I might. See more clearly.
This is No Fun House.
You’re not the mouse. But the Cat.
And I am trapped. Mad.
Mad, I am.
About you.
Osh Writes 