“You have such a way with words”
I disagree to the nth degree
I admire language
I dissect its roots

Instead of a vintage store,
I am a “Goodwill” of tongues
I take archaic and mundane vocabulary
And make it revolutionary

We tend to get lost in the mundane
In the convenience
In the comfortability
We don’t push our minds off the cliff of normality
We remain familiar

Abnormally, I get anxious in comfort
In ordinary exchanges
Discouraged even

I blame my mind for “enigma-tizing" everything
Like a troll guarding a bridge

It conjures up riddles in non lyrical form
Waiting for others to comprehend them;
For others to immerse

And once it is solved
A short lived appreciation enters
“It has been a moment, kinsmen.
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“We must cross now”
My mind creates its own dialect
Words and idioms that make brains scramble
Like ants when water approaches

Who are they for?
I don’t feel superior for befuddling people
That would be illogical
I don’t believe my IQ is the Burj Khalifa
That would be egotistical

My mind is just a psychological game of Jenga
It stacks and stacks with new ideas
And those ideas get pulled by passerby’s to unravel

One by one they’re grabbed and forgotten
Leaving craters where they once resided
I should feel vacated
Eventually the “Jenga!”
Bell is rung

And everything once cherished tumbles
I should feel betrayed
It is an arduous job being this way
Perpetuating reputation
Perpetuating intellect
Perpetuating sanity
Perpetuating numbness
Who is it for?

One day, I won’t be the only one
Who seeks greater potential in language

I won’t be the only one that alters it
I won't be the only one that enlarges it
I won't be the only one that dramatizes it
I won’t be the only one that publicizes it

There will be an army of unorthodox linguists
Dreamers of fluidity in language
Of flexibility

Modern day Shakespeareans
If you will
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It wont be for anyone
And the best part is
It won’t be temporary