The ugliest thing I ever had to wear was a suffocating suit of complacency.
It was tight in the arms, limiting free swinging punches at oppurtunity. The back was taut confining the inhalation of everything that could have been.
Neck cinched, breathe restricted, if only I could undo this button.
I walk through the office and nobody notices my suit
But I can see their wardrobes for what they are
your too short skirt screams mid-life crisis
Your #1 dad tie mouths the word trapped
Everyone has their own set, style, chains
Ghosts wrapped in the problem of the day
I hop scotch through my shift, down a hall with alternating tiles of peach and grey.
I jump from one foot to the other acting like the peach tiles are lava, tie over shoulder tounge in the corner of my lips, eyes focused, don't touch the lava
Does my suit show that I am not a suitable fit as a corporate disciple
I do not worship kitchenettes or collating
I can feel the youth and hope beneath these clothes, this mask I wear
This costume that is beginning to become me
Complacency.....I wear it like you wear your belief in God or your childhood abuse
I need to go to a tailor because this doesn't fit me
Childhood visions of something better must have been in my other pants
Eeking it out over bran muffins at the water cooler
The lights are dimming as the darkness of reality slowly claws its way into my cubicle
I am becoming what I used to fear
I should finish myself off, buy a minivan and start losing hair
college idealism meets reality equals complacency
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