I lifted my weary body, simultaneously opened tired eyes
And walked in zombie-like fashion to the fridge
I pulled out a gallon of milk and guzzled down the remains
Clad in boxer briefs I scuffled to the bathroom to stare at my reflection
What lived on the other side of the mirror I was not prepared for

Black blotches have started below my eyes
Dark red veins now reside around my pupils
I look older than my father; my skin begins to crawl
It's a pitiful sight and I stand embarrassed

I head back to the couch and I check the clock -
4 o'clock AM
Some unpromising infomercial is bellowing from my television
I pay no mind because I'm not in the market for leaner thighs
Rock-hard washboard abs or chaotically-cut muscular pectorals-
I'm too worried about my unhealthy state
Of mind and body

Long nights continue on to longer days
And it takes way too much energy to gain sustenance;
I need more sun, I need more food, I need more time
Notice: everything begins as a "need"

It's a desire to obtain everything and anything
As fast and easy as possible
To gobble up the world around me and scarf it all down
Every word, every moment, every disease-ridden second
Of this decaying and apocalyptic word that we shrug off

A commercial comes on with a skin-and-bones child
Around his waist is a dirty loincloth of sorts, that is all
A man to the boy's side is trying to market his dying lifestyle
The lack of water makes his skin dryer than sandpaper and
It's evident that he has trouble finding a bath to soak in

But I have too many problems here on the home front
On this American turf, in this white-walled apartment
I'm losing motivation and I need
I need too much, but I want to need;
I want to feel there is something to strive for

I strive for pages filled with interesting documented days
I'll run out of paper and start using its edges,
The spine, the hardcover,
Sketching my day with lavish words and funnier phrases

But I know this is just false hope-
A blank canvas is a day in the life
So I'll paint until my arms get heavy
With every piece I make, every single stroke
Just one of dreamer-hopeful-beggar-needer;
Painting all that isn't real, but could be
In the eyes of the paint media staring back at me
With its blue swirling eyes, black/yellow/red skin
The more I hold such a brush, the more my life means something
Sleep will take me soon, nightmares will need my attention
Needs will wake me up in the morning.

03/25/2009

Posted on 03/25/2009
Copyright © 2024 Jared Orlando