selective memory

one of those who rose

to the top, surfing on

the backs of others bending

over stupidly---manipulated

by the pretty face, fast talk,

a sexy walk, a mouth full of

poetic words & all the confidence

a human being could possibly

muster---

this riser conveniently forgets

what it was like to struggle,

this riser forgets what it was

like at the f*****g bottom,

this riser forgets just what it

was like to be young &

seemingly powerless, this

riser forgets just what it was

like to scream & not have it

heard, to feel like no one would

ever know a thing about them,      

to feel like blade down the wrist

would be the only way to

solve everything.

 

the riser does not remember these

things, they float on their cloud with

selective memory, foolishly thinking

that the bliss will last forever &

that those that they forgot on the

way up, those that got stepped on,

those that were disgraced, used &

degraded, all for the sake of one

human being’s career,

will never have another word with

them &

that they have somehow achieved

bulletproof skin, with new walls of

security built around them to keep

them in tact long enough so that the

vultures making money off their

very existence can thrive.

 

then one day, the most unbelievable day

possible in our history,

the riser gets smacked upside the head

with a brick made entirely out of

ironic anger, as if all the desperation of

the world finally unified & found an

outlet---

and when the riser falls

it is more beautiful than anyone’s rise

to the top,

it is more honest & with it comes a

justice that cannot be put into words---

to watch the unthankful riser

come crashing down into the

broken & destroyed pieces of the

bottom with the rest of us,

left alone to fight for scraps with those

that still remember who they had been &

most of all,

what they became---

ah, it is priceless,

perfect &

oh so

entertaining.