The Cauldron of Knowing

Fear is a crutch.

It’s damnation, isn’t it

Stepping on a stage like this

Feeling the heat rise to the edge of my skin

Making my face red

I come to read verses, to tell a story so amazing, everyone listens and understands

Everyone cares and loves me

But it’s hard

I’m always facing this obstacle

One which I seem to place in my own path

I lose direction on my way up the stairs to stand at the top

I look down on a crowd I don’t know

They don’t know me either

I live in fear of not knowing

Don’t we all?

That fire inside me burns over the edges of the pot which I try to contain it

I mark the hours in the day and the time that passes that I can’t do anything about

A rumbling deep and monumental takes hold of my body and I’m motionless to decide my direction

That’s always my excuse

I don’t have a choice

But I do, I know I do.

I’m wonderfully inhibited by my own sense of mind

The very virtue that helps me write prevents me from reading what I’ve written

And in these dark days I have nothing but the flames from my cauldron, tumbling down the sides, onto my polished floor

I remind myself all of that is made up

A direction that I can’t seem to place myself in.

I’ve never been decidedly good enough to do it.

Good enough for anything of that sort and I feel obstructed.

Why do I complain so?

We all know the disease of the mind I carry with me

We all know the fiery reverence I hold to my chest

With what do I plan to do with it

To tempt the soul that rests so tenderly alongside my fragile heart

I could smash them both in an instant with my cruel deceitful mind

With my powerful impactful words

But I can’t do that, not just yet

I have not pursued what I set out to pursue and now I sit in folly

Relentlessly cycling in and out of complete incompetence

Is it true that I've wasted so many years

And while I age I still sit here stuck in a river of the earth caught in between to sharp talon like rocks.

The water crosses over my skin so swiftly it leaves small cuts like a dagger

But I passively wait

I watch people walking by and I don’t cry out

I want to suffer

I victimize myself then.

I grip onto the sharp rock and thrust myself up and the talon goes straight through my hand pouring its contents onto the side of the rock, dripping down into the rapids.

Lost forever

I’m not pained by it. I need it

Don’t partake in my games I live in a presumptuous nature

I want people to love and adore this little charade

Surely I can’t think of anything else to do with my eternal life

Not quite

I listen and wait because as the hunger grows you start to hear the growl

And it beckons me closer and closer to the ledge

Further I will tumble into an abyss and get lost as I always do

Will I write my way out?

Or sit quietly and question people on their etiquette towards me.

“Why don’t you love me?” I’ll say wildly

And they’ll run in fear for they know nothing of me.

And my name will never be spoken by them

And as the chatters in the night picks up and I’m expelled from my prison I let the darkness pick me up and carry me into a cradle of wood.

I’m lowered slowly down for hours it seems and placed gently on the soft world below

I rest now after all myself caused misery

All of my strange delusions

And if I’m known for anything I’m not for that

A wild crazy woman on a rampage of death and pain

”No one hurt her, they’ll say, she hurt herself”

How wicked of them

No, how wicked of me.

I planted the seed that grew this characteristic and I will ride it into hell where it belongs

Face my fear finally

But it will be far too late once the last breath has left my body

Why did I wait so long?

Oh, I’m sure you know, I had too much to lose in life.

Yes yes you’re right that’s made up too.

I had nothing to lose. I’m just a natural coward, can’t you see

Pity me please, that’s all I’ve always wanted.

And that’s why you haven’t read my words.

That’s why you haven’t felt my anguish.

That’s why my indecisiveness hasn’t cut you to the core.

I’m a coward and I never showed it to you.

I want to be vulnerable but I’m scared and that’s the vulnerability

Ha, haven’t I just written myself into a paradox.

Oh don’t give me any props, I’m pathetic

And when I’m gone, when I’m truly gone.

There won’t be a thing

No mention. Even lunatics slowly fade from our lips.

Alas you never knew my name at all, who do I kid?

But I’ll show you this one

So hold on

And remember this at least

I faltered, I lost it all, I was living a life somewhere else in my mind and I lost the life right in front of me.

Learn from it, child, please, learn.

Do everything. Try everything.

Don’t be afraid, really, don’t be afraid.

Get out there and show them.

And if they hate it? Oh come on, what’s worse chasing the chaos that still haunts you from doing absolutely nothing or being hated...and what was that, known.

But don’t take it from me.

Take it from you.

You’re reading this now aren’t you.

And whether you hate or not, because you’re reading it I’m still here.

Thank you!

At last.

I’m still here.

I wasn’t so cowardly after all. Or maybe I got quite lucky.

Some creeping child in the midst of old documents and essays pulled this one out and used it as a paper airplane.

It glided above the rail of the old staircase and landed on the stoop in front of the big wooden door.

And mother, sweet mother, picked it up and unfolded the old paper. And read it aloud

And smiled.

She smiled!

To herself, yet it occurred.

And she took that paper and typed it out. And put my name right underneath.

And fancy that, you know me now.

Sorry it took so long.

You know I’m weak.

And not everyone is so lucky as I am.

Please don’t hold back.

Do what you set out to do, show the world what you’re capable of.

You’re powerful I can feel it as you tremble, I can feel these words vibrating on the page.

Let me go and carry on.

Be the best you can be.

I believe in you, but come on that doesn’t mean anything

YOU believe in you.

Now go, hurry.

Your pot won’t contain that fire for long..