It’s a long drive from your parent’s house to the place you started calling home a year ago.
You chew gum to pass the time and sing along to radio songs like nobody’s listening, because nobody’s listening.
You wish you could be the first person to travel Mars, but then you realize you don’t know all that much about Mars and that other people might be more qualified for the adventure.
You realize the stars make sense but they are boring.
You wish you had something interesting to tell at work.
You turn to your phone and type:
“Throw me in the middle of things! Throw me to the ground and step over me! Slam the door in my face like you mean it. Just for once.”
Silly for reading the primers. Silly for knowing exactly how it works. Silly for being vocal about it. Silly for being the only one not invited. Silly for showing up anyway.
How could you say this is easy a year ago?
When you threw tiny bits of pavement on the pavement and smoked just to the pass the time on the back of a truck
Behind a 7-Eleven, thinking about how Prince’s cremated remains were placed into a custom, 3D printed urn shaped like Paisley Park estate.
You just don’t get it anymore.
So you sweat into your dad’s shirt with no intention of giving it back when suddenly
Someone arrives looking beautiful
And they throw you in the middle of things. They throw you to the ground and slam the door shut, because they mean it.
You watch them step over your body and it matters less and less.
I’m the prince of many things and everything always happens in the wrong room of my palace.