Best Served With: West by River Tiber ft Daniel Caesar
Sometimes I wonder about porcupines,
About the needles on their backs,
Are they just cautiously lined platoons
Skinny stems of soldiery savor,
Natural armor for defense
Against the world?
Or are they spoils of a forgotten war,
Against the playground of fate,
Savagely scratching scores of silky skins,
Each one a nestled reminder of a stained past
Greeting an amber future.
Sometimes I feel like a porcupine,
With all these needles sticking to me,
Each of them gnawing at nature’s creation
Convincing; it is an abomination,
Transparency sloshes in its hollow sheath,
Either to deposit a whisper of change,
Or withdraw a wisp of abnormality,
A syringe’s worth.
Always a syringe’s worth.
Sometimes I envy porcupines,
As, in these white halls and spotless floors,
I feel like a neglected child;
A mistake nature never meant to make,
But one she could not be bothered to erase,
A stain in sanitized sheets.
And these needles;
They help me fight every day,
Only to live enough to fight another day
But when your fellow fighters all fade or fall,
It gets incredibly lonely.
Sometimes I wish I was a porcupine,
I could control the needles on me,
I could taste the warm summer breeze on my skin,
Bask in the sunlight as it dodges between tree leaves,
But the first thing I’d do is remove all my needles,
Because I know–
I, I just know.
That I will feel nature’s love as they regrow.