Evolution

I wanted to write a poem 
 with regards to how badly 
    you ruined me 

However, I’ve decided to scribe one with regard to my evolution instead; how is that for growth? 

Winter 1990: The land of the forbidden mixtapes, New Order, Pet Shop Boys, and The Cure, GALORE. The hardship of two sides, and a brief pause to continue the musical odyssey. 

Fast Forward Summer 2022: An original antique iPod Nano with NOTHING but Tony Moore music; on
my way to what will be my academic home for three years. Save the Day, Dear Me, Only Love Can heal you. Tranquility. 

A heavy rewind to Summer 2003: Offered the capacity to discover song upon digital song and my back then piano playing fingers. Evanescence pulls me in a direction I am unable to resist. My immortal. 

Rewind even further Winter 1991: New Order found its way during my Carrie moment in high-school. A strange figure thought to not care revealed true emotion. Remarkable decades later that day was relived in another format. 

Proceed 50 feet, Summer 1992: Art of Noise blares over tremendous tickling. Laughter and cigarettes, barracudas and chemical logs! Climb a micro mountain and attempt to be fearless. I Will Remember You. 

Press HARD pause, Fall 2022: Beyond compare Silent Lucidity presents itself in the oddest moment. Desperado offers a state of affairs that takes me to 1995. 

Go back of a couple of decades, Winter 1995: This man walks into my life, strictly platonic yet a profound connection. One who had been maimed brutally in the past. Desperado played a critical role. He was an easy read a book with LARGE printing. Intent & pain. 

Potentially with the capacity 
   to create mixtapes as quickly 
 as I can create words.

   So many thoughts. 
      Each moment offers, 
    it’s been slowly seeping in 

  This time and space 
     offers solution 
   via the one vessel 
       I should trust most 
             my own 

   Is it selfish to hold space
      for my soul? 
   
  To hold it in a fashion others 
      are able to do so for me 
  free of judgement. 

    I can hear toxicity skulking 
      behind corners, the Id’s    
   evil red optics, 
      appear to battle 
no one is that authentic 
to which I say “you have my pity
    step to the left you stupid 
   walrus; you are not welcome 
       to carry space here.”

   I reach for my Samurai sword 
fight through words of distrust 
     to understand how truly        
    cemented and free 
         I am!