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Two Places At Once


Two Places At Once


I wish I could do that

Be in two places, at the same time

Be in one place, doing my own thing

Be at another place, causing destruction

to the people I loath

And I don’t even know it



Cuz that’s what my enemy is doing,

Causing me to self-destruct

Knowing they’re somewhere else

Yet, they’re able to cause destruction

Without even being here



I wish I could do that

Be in two places at the same time

Leaving a person in misery

Over feelings that haven’t been shed,

caused by me, staying in the person’s memory,

Leaving them embittered and small



While I do nothing but sit inside myself

Living and that is all.



I wish I could do that

I wish I could be in two places

at the same time



Yeah, I wish I could do that.



They would love seeing you this way.

Keep saying that wise one,

You’re right, yes my enemy would.



But like nothing lasts forever,

My enemy’s power won’t either.

And that is all.




Continue reading “Two Places At Once”

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Sad Childhood Memories: Speech Lady

“In the life of everyone there is a limited number of experiences which are not written upon the memory, but stamped there with a die; and in the long years after, they can be called up in detail, and every emotion that was stirred by them can be lived through anew; these are the tragedies of life.”

— James Weldon Johnson

It was Pre-K, and Yanna (my twin sister) and I were doing speech.

I remember what we were doing; the speech lady had taken us to an activity room with this black recorder thing sitting on the table, she had me and my twin sister take turns wearing the headphones. But I remembered her saying,

“If you hear a beep, lift your hand. If you don’t hear a beat do not lift your hand.”

I can recall not listening to her protocol. I kept lifting my hand when there wasn’t a beep. I don’t remember if I was being stubborn in the beginning, but I always feel as if it were an honest mistake in the beginning—me lifting my hand when there wasn’t a beep.

I can remember the lady being mean to me as I kept lifting my hand when there wasn’t a beep, telling me that I couldn’t listen and that I was being bad.

But when Yanna did it, she lift her hand when it beeped, and the speech lady congratulated her and everything.

“See, she’s being good. You’re not.”

Regardless of how I might have behaved. I always feel as if the speech lady had been harsh to 4-year old me, cuz her saying those things, still affect me today.

It makes me sad whenever I think about it.