He woke up to the rumbling of his phone.
He pinched it out from under the covers.
It was jammed from the flurry of missed calls and generic well-wishes.
It was his birthday.
He dressed up and hurried for work.
It always took him 30 minutes to get to work,
So he liked to take his time.
Waiting at the bus stop for what seemed like an eternity.
He bundled in,
Lost in his thoughts.
Work was a drag as usual.
It’s hard enough working for a boss who was a bit of a jerk.
He had shifty eyes.
He didn’t trust his boss,
He never knew if he would go all asshole on him again.
He wasn’t particularly close to anyone at work
And that was fine.
The phone rang occasionally.
“that’s nice” he thought.
They wished him,
Of course they would.
It’s his birthday.
The ex that is.
He always loved to hear from her.
He missed her on occasion,
Even though she was a nutcase.
Still it was nice she thought of him sometimes,
Even if it was just to wish happy birthday.
He couldn’t wait to get home.
He only wanted to talk to her.
“The love of his life” he believed,
It sucked enough that she was faraway.
Today was his birthday so he had to make room,
For anyone who would call.
He would text her.
She who made him light up.
She was hopelessly naïve,
But she was attuned to him,
Like two extradimensional beings.
She was scared of him sometimes,
But she’ll come around.
Their world was still nascent.
He bought him something nice,
It was nice of him.
Unexpected but still,
They were so distant sometimes he hardly believed they were kin sometimes.
They were so similar in their isolation.
He was fire,
That was how he thought of his brother,
While he was air.
Will and indifference.
They made a heck of a team.
The perfect roommate.
Someday they’ll own dogs and go out for walks without anyone interfering in their moments.
He wasn’t always this popular.
Years ago he was an eccentricity,
Even his “best” friend would rather hang out with other people.
He stayed in his cradle of thoughts,
Hoping not to be a nuisance to anyone,
Yet hoping someone might touch him within the bars of his cage.
She really did.
She wasn’t like him.
She had friends,
She was smarter than he could ever hope to match.
Here she was,
Purring over the intricate darkness of his mind.
He liked her,
But she was not the one.
No matter how he wished or wrote,
Even when they flung together,
She was never going to be his.
He loved his football club.
It was an entity which while a bit oblivious to him was one of the joys (and disappointments) of his life.
He followed games and players earnestly.
His heart bled red.
He would definitely go see a game at the Theatre of Dreams one of these days.
He had his jerseys all lined up.
His only footballing love,
Manchester United Football Club
They said he was not spiritual enough
Didn’t pray enough
Didn’t share the Word enough.
Would rather talk about ephemeral things on this earth.
Made by people who could just not grow some balls to say what they really thought.
They were afraid of him.
He was a different kind of spiritual,
Unencumbered by the selfishness of breakthrough
And simply concerned with growing better
Not a hedonist
But one who believed that desire and gratification are made pure
If you are spiritual,
You will get it.
He loved her from the first day he saw her,
He was speechless,
She was the light in the room.
She made him weep.
He could never understand,
She did not feel same for him.
He died many times over.
He learned to let her loose,
Even as she flew into a trap,
Her wings pinned,
Her pride desecrated.
He stood and watched,
Without lifting a finger.
He was no longer there,
But he was here.
School was hard,
He struggled to fit in.
His friends did not care though,
They believed him,
And loved him the way he was.
He did not care much for self-serving people,
He did not do what they did,
He did what he does best,
He was very good at it.
He had invested his blood and sweat into it.
He did not need their stamp of approval
For them to tell him
He was decent.
He was a liar.
He knew it.
That was why he struggled to hide things,
He would rather hide them in stories
Crafted by his clumsy mind,
As complex as an eyrie,
Or a simple marble carving.
The kind that people gushed over.
Truly just half truths
From the mouth of the liar.
Family is everything.
It flew through the air at twenty-five miles per hour
Catching him in the solar plexus,
His muscles stiffened at the sudden agony,
He spewed effluvium.
Another blow caught him in the second and third ribs,
Precisely over his pulsing heart
There was a distinct pop
As they cracked.
The surgical precision of the strikes numbed him.
His vision clouded,
There was a sharp pain and a loud crack as his jaw was violently twisted sideways.
He saw stars,
They used to get to him,
The pains of the human condition.
But he grew.
There was a thing called due process,
No matter the umbrage in his heart
He learned to let it go.
If life ever made sense
There would be no sense of time,
He would be locked in the eternity
Of his mental constructs,
The only religion he ever truly acknowledged.
It bubbled beneath the surface
Seeping through fault lines
It surged and writhed
An angry living thing
Swishing around the atrium of the caldera
Hollowed by past eruptions
The madness within
Ran parallel to his sanity
He knew all too well what would happen if they ever converged at vanishing point
Justice is blind,
The scales always seeking retribution.
Twenty-five to life,
No possibility of parole,
He looked at the striped light
He saw the dust swirling
Catching different wavelengths,
And felt the cool concrete through the thin clothes on his back.
It was heavy and gray.
He heard the chatter from down the hallway,
The tap going drip-drip,
Plonking away musically.
He could taste the bile in his mouth,
Full of regret
At the cold meal left untouched on the scoured floor.
He saw occasional flashes of red,
As he read the sensory input relayed to him.
Life gives him a rough deal.
Life was kin with death.
They were not kind to anyone,
They were never
The blood welled in the meninges of his brain,
Biochemical reactions diffused through capillaries networked
Moving at terrifyingly fast speeds.
It was all he could do.
© Sena Frost 2k16