Cheap Brown Bench.

Colorful and Accomplished.
Foreword – The story begins here.

Chapter I: Corrosive.

I recognized how poisonous my world had become way before I had the courage to do anything about it.
Instead of finding a way to relieve myself of it, I let it run rampant inside me. The venom. Now it took a while to take effect but the minute it did- I lost myself.
I was in this corrosive state. Different parts of me reacting to the substance that has now seeped inside. My spirit fought, but my body gave in. It gave in over and over again.     
I made decisions that put me in situations that were reckless and borderline dangerous. But I compensated by excelling in professional and social environments. ‘Tit for Tat’ I thought. Colorful and accomplished- frantic and torn.
The juxtaposition of my reality was invisible to the eye, but I sure as hell felt every bit of it. Every damn day. 
I wasn’t thinking about finding a way out. Often times I just sought refuge in the make believe and braided reality and fantasy together- to the point where I could no longer untangle the two without permanent ramifications.
That braid of reality and fantasy acted as painkillers. Effective painkillers. Honestly, I just kept hoping. Hoping that someone was going to pull me out of it. Even if by saving me, I would be destroying the life of someone else.
I wanted out. This relationship you’re about to read, was a catalyst of that newfound agency to

wake up.



Our parking lot palace.
A cheap brown bench for a throne.
I sat with you, for hours we sat.
Like kings on borrowed time.
I wanted you to hold me.
Like I was more than just a secret.
Like I was more than just a moment.
But we were kings on borrowed love.
So I watched, for hours I watched.
Our palace burn to the ground.
As you drove away.
To a palace, and a King
I borrowed you from.
Miguel Raphael.
Frantic and Torn.

Creative Collaborator: Richard Park and Jenn Alexander

Styled By: Yours Truly. 



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