Been through some things.
Not a lot, because my fortune doesn’t run out.
Not anything big, cause I minimize.
I try, to maximize the feeling at the time,
Take a shower in the blood you try to scrub off your hands.
Let the agony and despair rain over me like light and love were never there.
Get knocked down and never get up from these hits that eat away at your skin until your mind is exposed,
And even that is splattered across canvases of haunted spirits still looking to fill the void that keeps them searching for their souls.
I run from them, though they feel me,
More than anybody.
I may have to thank…
For all my rebirths.
I may have to consider every time that it was over and I rose like a broken phoenix.
Not as high as I would like, but enough distance from the ground to keep reaching for anything.
With my pessimistic optimism,
I should never have seen the light of day when KO hit KJ
And KJ hit replay,
Never letting myself forget the fact that I’ll never really win but…
I’m so fortunate that I refuse to see all that is in front of me
And sometimes, what I am.
After death, I think my breath’s use is still to cultivate,
Sensing, out of no where, that I have a puncher’s chance
So I get up and rise up and stand up and stumble and limp closer to somewhere I find highly unlikely.
Some kind of low-level perfection where I’m…