Thinking With a Concussion

I wrote this in the middle of the night in my cousin closet. I kept reciting a poem I just heard by Propaganda about time and felt the need to not waste it 3:00 in the morning.

Ok Ok, I thought I knew it all.

I mean what wasn't there to know?

I knew how to walk the part.

I knew how to talk the talk.

The thing is the shallow pool of Medina's thinking

looked swimable.

I took a head first dive into the kiddie pool.

Only I pretended I didn't have a concussion.

Everyone else could see the crack in my skull.

The blood pouring down my face, filling my mouth quickly 

as i tried to speak and say "No No! Im Ok!" 

concluding with a gentle smile. 

That didn't matter. 

What was there not to know?

*Medina- I was referring to myself*

Author's Note

Any Constructive criticism is welcomed! :)