CBD Sacrifices (Original Poem):

This is where the story began

As the echoing voice on the speaker bluntly cut through my wandering thoughts, attempting to cut papers with scissors unequipped to do the job correctly

To the left of me crawling through the confines of mazed outlets there were blurred shadows of things which seemed to be wandering in such a hurry that there was no time to be alive

There was no time to show any other emotion than the hurry, the anticipation of arriving somewhere other than where they were

Emotion, motion, too much motion toward downward escalators slowly moving so they are sped up with nightly drinks and daily skips of meals

The slouching on the once white tiled walls was now a resting place for a tailored outfit to press his day’s worries upon, as it darkens with each appointment and paperwork missed

Step, step, step, bump, knock

“MOVE!”

You can see it in eyes, exhaustion, frustration, sadness

You can see it in the movements of limbs, dragged and dodged and dwindling

Stress, you see

As a cancerous ball internally felt as a headache today and a stomach ache tomorrow

And the story never really ends until the end is faced by sudden jolts and wicked unfortunate circumstances, unknowingly created from the space which was fed

Reversals of time and action prayed for, sitting at edges of beds, palms of beaded sweated poison attempting to be free from the body

The jolt of movement threw me back, and I realised as an observer we can watch with our binoculars of object and subjectivity

But as living, breathing, feeling beings decisions can be made right now

Snap, click, switch

We re-create the beginning, the middle and realise the end of all ends only exists in a place of nonexistence

Stories are simply that

Imagined, retold, recounted events, false and true depending on how you write them

Stories of lifts rising to higher grounds, floored with fruitful offerings or downward escalators laced with scarcities are your choice

So will you take the escalator down? Or take the lift up?

(Image: Unknown Artist)