Living Room

This
room is
plush,
with
memories
etched
in between
the
tough
lines
scattering
walls
that bend
to
the right,
left,
and back
again
to
us.

This room
is
full
of the things
that
bring
yellow
hues,
brown
touches,
and hushed
orange
images
that paste
themselves
in
between
our touches.

The
point
in drawing
these
letters
to
words
is to
say that
this room
is
warm,
like
liquid
love
dipped
in honey
suckles
that
fill in the
crevices
on your skin.

This room
fits
us, since
we’re
in no
hurry
to
change
these sheets.

M.C. Davis

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Dear Mikey,

Dear 16-year-old Mikey,

First, stop thinking you need to carry that Bible around in between those sweaty hands. Later you’ll learn that no matter where you are, those days at Bible camp during those hot summers won’t really matter when you’re older. Learn to run around like you did when you were a lot younger, or forget about the notion of impressing everyone. You’ll learn later in life that often, you’ll only need to smile to get the same results.

Start today, and forget about what may come tomorrow.

Remember when you were a kid, and you were invincible?

Hint: you still are.

Like I said, stop worrying about tomorrow, and start living in this version of now. By the time you’re my age, you will have forgotten the simple steps, and undergone another transformation of trying to find you. I’m here to let you know that your actions now will always affect your actions later, and that trend will never end.

Hey, pay attention! You’ll require everyone’s undivided attention when you get older. Believe me on this one.

Another thing to note is that as you imagine the world changing around you, how about flipping the script and start changing yourself first instead of waiting for the world around you to change. As an adult now, I wish I could have a sliver of the innocence you brought to the scene. Just remember that you’ll never stop transforming so please stop looking for the final draft of you. The real truth, as I know you’ll ask, is that you are the final product.

You were never in any kind of draft format. And for heaven’s sake, let go of letting go. As you make it beyond your tender years, you’ll find wisdom in both letting go and kicking the shit out of something in your way.

This is normal.

Honestly Mikey, stop standing in your own shadow and wondering why it is always dark. Eventually, you’ll learn the fine art of standing in both the shadow and the light. It’ll be tough to realize this at your age, but you’ll get there. It’s not a bad or a good thing. It’s simply a patience and perspective thing.

So, just be patient and stay ready for what’s to come.

Sincerely,

You with a beard, a professional job, and a few more notches of wisdom etched on the ‘ol totem pole.

Lucky You, Lucky Me

So,
we get to
make
shit
up
as we
go
along,
and
the days
don’t
argue as much
as
they
used to;
so,
feel free
to
relax
in
a
sun-filled
bathtub,
and
lounge
around
in
sweet
fields of
green,
browns,
and orange-flavored
evenings.
We’re lucky
enough
to
be able
to
afford
both.
Especially
when
we
get to
step
to and
fro
like two
bees
fighting
over
who
gets to
get
stuck in
the
honey
first.
Yes,
lucky
you,
lucky
me.

M.C. Davis

A Timely Fight

 

Once again, I’m faced with a crisis.

Time.

He’s  bothering me with his usual tease and I’m just not feelin’ him right now. I’m stable, but he’s trying to change that. I’m chillaxin’ and he’s just standing there watching me with his googly eyes. I’m figuring out the next level with clean and accurate precision, but he’s just reminding me of what I missed at the last level with clean and accurate precision. He ‘s there, and seemingly not too aware that I’m just not feelin’ him.

At least not right now.

I just need a few more moments of alone time, but he’s just that much taller in the sky to where I can’t help but see him.

Glaring

Peering into the close of the day as if he’s able to change the rhythm and pace of things.

So, I fight.

I fight him to the death and if he think he’s able to take me down with the ‘ol one-two-punch, then he’s in for a rude awakening. I know counter-moves, a with a slight change of hands, I can master the art of every sucker punch he throws. I get to call the shots with this one. I get to yell out ‘last call’ since I own this damn bar; and yes, the door is that-a-way with the exit sign now kicking a full blown kiss on your neck as you, in fact, exit.

So, time, let’s play another game. A game where you just stand there waiting to be told the next step of your day.

I’m just making a small claim here.

M.C. Davis