Procrastination has been a pain in my ass since I was half this age and had half the patience.
Fueled by pressure, I disregarded every lecture, or attempt to correct my imperfect preference to hesitate until time could be no lesser.
It wasn't until I was twice as old and twice as bold, isolated, that I noticed it's what's next that seems so icy cold.
I had, in error, neglected friendships and as a result received expected severance of affection.
"Can we talk?"
"Not tonight. Next time."
"Next time...?" I thought;
in my head, I know this lead to my next rhyme, but deeper than that, it opened my eyes and allowed me to realize that there very well could be no 'next time.'
Not meant to depress, or leave incensed; but, in that moment, my flawed perspective on life was opened and I had to shamefully own it.
I had been saying "next time." since the last time I can remember. But, if the next time you say "next time", is the last time you say it - there won't be that next time to say it.
It's time to start living in the present.
It's time to start living in the present and having more of a presence. As a father, I need to be more of a message. She needs to know that dad's ears are open, his mind's attentive, his heart's impressed, and his time is endless.
She will only ever know -
"be right there."
E.R
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Slamthology
PoetryA collection of slam, spoken word, jotted thoughts, wordplay, and whatever else. I'll do my best to title each part as it's own. Thanks for reading, and I appreciate any feedback!
