Second Place Waste

Second Place Waste

By: Tyler Ross

“You’re lucky,” he says

But it’s that envy that holds you back kid

Don’t let it into your head

Pedestal worship just isn’t real

You’re the first loser

How does it feel?

Living for someone or something that doesn’t want to be reached

They’ll leech sucking the life out of you

No clues to how you got there

Let’s compare someone who was never there

Never there, no care!

Short fuse and you will lose

Just walk away

You don’t have to pay your dues

For better choices made

It’s up to you to control you

Or you will be played

Stay away! Stay away!

Their loss, so move along

Don’t be a pushover understanding right from their wrong

Live and let learn

And watch them burn

Your time is now

No more waiting your turn

Second place is a waste behind first

You think you’ve been replaced

And you’re embarrassed to show your face

You think worse

About the way you were yourself analyzing each and every way

But not today

You’re better than that

Let them fade away

Send them on their way

You are first and that’s a fact

Stand tall or fall

You’ve got to see

The positivity of giving your all

Redirect your thoughts

Fuck what they think

Their mistake

Your time is now

Blatancy

Blatancy

By: Tyler Ross

The door closes slowly and I immediately begin to reevaluate the situation. She puts on a defense of mechanisms known to some as dirt, but to me they are excuses expressed to leave me in hurt. Why do the many want to cut themselves down to size and trash their image or peace of mind? And why do they try and assist in my decision-making? Be a one-of-a-kind. I find the answers are educated guesses developed by those who care to reflect these moments. Saddened and still perplexed by the actions brought to me in short bursts. Radiated connections, sexual detections and bonding intersections met constantly. Why question me? I can’t wrap my brain around to why as humans; most feel the need to flee from obvious harmony. Those who try to excavate and demonstrate hypochondria-like symptoms will find ways to set themselves apart from greatness presented clear as a summer day in California. Just give it a little time, I remind. The weak will shine, although I seem to follow this trend of being left behind. Do I really mind? Sigh. A little sample is what I call being kind. Longevity is my enemy, which I want to gain and end this obvious assertion that this time my opposite attraction feels the same. So, I walk to my car reassessing what I should never have to question. My decisions and intentions are pure, but my feelings lead me think these next days, she will allow me to sink. I stare out into nothing before starting my car and have trouble connecting the missing link. I can’t blink. This is all blatancy I think. I try and build up, but that of what doesn’t want to be built will show no true peace of mind. This is all blatancy I think.