A Real Sad Boy

I don’t feel like Pinocchio

but these strings feel like a home I been trying to escape from

to search for what it means to be a real boy

cause papa made me like every other mistake

and the screws in me were mistaken

for fixins to a broken thing

man’s toy

a boy’s wonder

full of lies I’ve been told

I’ve been told

I was good enough

good enough to be a real boy

that all the pieces that made me

made me whole

but really, I was just piece

that needed the strings to keep me together

the nights I fall apart

I lie limp

staring into the darkness waiting for piano fingers to play me like Americas favorite tune

gun shots ring out like hymns

or so I imagine

a home I don’t want to escape from

a vessel that feels like freedom

less of a prison sentence

somedays I am so close to ending it

other days they are so close to ending it for me

today I got pulled over


today they followed me around a store


today they had their sirens on behind me

I checked my speedometer

slowed down

they went around me


today I took a breath


I tell myself I am okay

I tell you I am okay

one of us doesn’t believe the lie

What are you looking for?