Tonight I feel alive.
For the first time in such a very long time
I walk through this City’s streets with my head held high
Like I can see it again as I did for the first time
Thinking maybe this time I can actually thrive
With no fear as I walk past two white guys fighting
and for a second they stop and I can feel their eyes like knives, prying
Even though I walk past doorways where in the past I’ve sat crying
Somehow it all still feels vibrant
I no longer wear your hand-made rose-tinted glasses
I’m finally free to settle back in amongst the masses
Instead of being stuck home alone,
While you’re sat next to me staring at your phone
And later I’d dutifully lie on my back and moan
Though for those final months there was always something a little ‘off’ about the tone.
Tonight I feel alive
For the first time in a very long time
My mind on fire as I race to get home
Because fuck me the one time I’ve actually left without my phone
And I have no pen to write down the lines
That are spilling forth from my tortured yet newly-inspired mind
As hard to retain as sand
And yet here I stand
for the first time in a very long time, rhyming
Fingers dancing across the keyboard, typing
Trying to remember how it went the first time, unbridled
How do you capture inspiration when for the longest time it’s been silenced?
Messy and raw, it’s never going to sound as good on paper as it did when it was just a thought.
This is not the greatest thought process in the world, this is just a tribute.