crybaby/

       being the chosen one 
shouldn’t be like this/ whatever this is/
it really shouldn’t be this fucking hard/ that’s all i’m saying/

        to be great is supposed to be a cake walk/ 
        it should feel like strong music scoring highlight reels
        it should be pretty women 
        & standing applause from elder statesmen
        it should feel like emerald luck/ big scissors/ 
                   & keys to the city.
        
                                              &yet/
                     it doesn’t/     like/ not even a little bit.      
                     being this great feels like death by exile/
                     it doesn’t feel like blank paper/ 
                              & quoted role models/ 
                                  dating through a pen 
it feels like the sawmill in my mind & the axe my hands
working together to build something meaningful/ 
   darmok & jalad at tanagra style/
                     
 this is where we have to unfortunately remind ourselves/
to labor & labor & bleed for this & labor in the dark 
 & hurt yourself in ways no one could ever understand
 & hate this/    & maybe like this shit little by little/ 
 & push yourself way too hard
 & sleep littlely/ & cry when no one’s looking.
 & between swings of splitting timber
                                 crybaby/ cry