Thee Charles Hines
Box In The Ocean
"What if I'm a bad role model? What if I'm scared?"
Now.
I am terrified to lift a prayer to Heaven and
have my hands swatted down
again.
There are people who have no idea I moved to Atlanta to pursue acting.
People who have no idea I moved back to Tampa after being furloughed from a $12/hr job it took me a month and a half to get.
Attached myself to some talented kids in hopes their success would wash onto me
and I wouldn’t be a
complete
failure.
PTSD of overdraft fees,
$5 paying for $4 gas keeping
me from full time art.
Apprehension breathing fire down my back.
Like this poetry will keep me fed
but stuck in the hood.
Choking on the dust of my former self like
“Where the time go?”
Worrying what the hell ima do next like
“Where my mind go?”
Blinked and found out I’m the cycle!
Just another
not working in the field their degree is in.
Blinked and found out I’m the nightmare!
Just another
that says he gon be a star.
Too weak
to rebuild a broken world.
Even for myself.
I’ve been seasick
speaking to kids about following their dreams.
Promising them a new world I’ve only seen in wasted ambition.
How can I teach them to get anywhere when I’m still stuck in my hometown?
Captain of a ship that never left the dock
but still
somehow
went under.
Sinking day by day and calling it “the grind”.
Like people can’t see through my bullshit.
They don’t have to be disappointed in me.
I’m disappointed in myself.