Artist JoeMac | Poetry Vibe
Artist JoeMac
This poet practices good karma and posts comments 19300
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Bring me to your city to perform. Book me thru my website, www.authorjoemac.com

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A House, not a Home

CATEGORY

life

Views: 165

I write stories on walls with verbal assualts that leave my tongue bloody without being struck, as the paint peels, pieces of my essence fall to the floor in the form of lead infected chips, underneath that paint is bare wood that weeps with dried up tears that I left from years of past turbalence that I endured and could never quite get over, so thats why they remained hidden because I was the one who put those walls to protect myself and blind the world to my own faults, I sought to make these four walls a home but they instead became a fortress to the deep dark secrets that I kept away from the rest, and I rested in unstable fashions, collapsing on a bed of nails , piercing my flesh to bleed out what was trapped inside of me for so long, convulsions with foam exiting my mouth was nothing but the disease that infected me all the way from childhood, which was growin up in a house that wasn't a home, so maybe thats why I am so defensive, stayin in survival mode because I know what its like to travel down roads that lead to dead ends, so I ended my life at the age of eighteen and came back smarter and harder than ever before, I watched my reflection in the eyes of the one who created me, and I seen not even a quarter of what I am, I looked in the eyes of the one that carried me and seen the complete opposite, because I don't make excuses for my actions, I just make things happen, then I started snappin, scrapin the halls of my walls wasn't enough, so I shattered the glass to escape my window pain, kicked a hole in the TV because I was so tired of being everyone else's entertainment for so long, if being black wasn't tough enough, then being Joe McClain was, no alias or nickname could allow me to escape from the turmoil I had experienced, so for just a few hours a week, I ran interference to escape from my present state of mind which was not located on any map, there was no pinpoint to the direction that i would travel, I just bloodied my hands and feet on the gravel, crawling and sprawling to acheive my success because walking there on my own two with full strength, I knew that I wouldn't appreciate my own efforts, I finally just burned my own house down, from outside I watched as it scorched to the ground, and the only thing I recall is the sounds of the walls screamin, as I was finally released from my former shell and former hell, and with that, I began construction on my new life, laying a new foundation that I could only lay

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