CovividSpoken Word Video
I feel this need to create
Maybe it’s because I was created
based off a procreate that would lift
Some sort of crate
I feel the need of the crate
it kneads those hands slowly into my back
I speak of this strictly although I’ve never really been on track
And maybe it’s because I need to go back to creating
I feel this need to create
And I feel this need to yawn at every day break
Who made me this tired?
And who made me so incapably capable to create
Do you feel it too?
Do you feel empty without creating like I do?
Who created you?
I never used to ponder over this,
I skipped stones in my pond and
made sure to miss the fish, I guess we never minded-
Mind you, I still have yet to create.
Then what is this?
Locked up for what feels like eight? Decades?
My to-do list grows each day and
This pot grows downwards each May-
I believe we did just graduate.
And I believe we did just get informed by the state
Infiltrating life with pandemic and human hate
I believe the world has yet to graduate.
And I believe this is when I should begin to create.
The pressure tends to take and take
Why not let it stay, stay
Knead my shoulders as I type away, way
It’s way down under.
Peel back my skin,
Find the generations of the long lost kin?
Tell em we need them now more than then
Tell em I need more friends and to
as I begin.
Is this what it means to start over? Change?
I bet you wish to sedate this thought, don’t you?
It’s been stagnant in your parking lot and
The city does normally leave cars to rot, don’t you, but
I walked my first street alone- ask me if this skin got caught- won’t you?
how do I get back my train of thought?
See I really never was on track, the mind tends to get wack,
Go back go back
as I grow thin and thin, words unraveling this pale skin,
How about I repeat myself?
He repeated himself.
Is this what it means to create?
They say grieving is moving crate
Up, side ,down ,side,
Constantly distributing its weight
Constantly redistributing it’s pain
Wait on me, I tend to take long packing,
Wait on me, I plan to use this writing and overthrow this attacking,
Wait on me, for I still need to find what I’ve been lacking although
We are all slacking
in waiting, and I knew my dad wasn’t the only enemy to traffic
Serves us right, the world has turned to plastic
We’ve tried to save the turtles for years
This world has gone to plastic, are our bodies merely toys?-
Plastic, this drastic change, we’ve been masking
Take off your mask for this one,
Even if it means what you think I mean,
Take it off.
Breathe in this plastic with me and tell me,
Is this what we meant by procreate?
Is this where I come in to create?
Is this how I find the loss of my porcelain fate?
Is this how we find the loss of our fate?