Gold

Gold is round, slender, about 3 inches long, white on the outside and crumpled brown on the inside. Gold waits for you because it knows you need it. Gold is wanting to be or have something that you never will. Gold doesn’t judge; it understands your weakness. It is a satirical cylinder of good faith and ventilation – a currency among those who value its riches. Gold craves to be used and abused until it is found as regret, distasteful regret. Gold makes you ugly. Gold lets you blame your ignorance and shortcomings on others. We want at least five minutes, so it can be enjoyed. Gold is a drug, that has less enemies than it should, as it has more enemies than it should. Gold helps you feel how you want and better. Gold holds no grudges, it will always take you back. Gold has no interest in understanding how you feel, it wont change anything… you keep crawling back. Gold is a guise behind which a scared little boy hides, wondering what he must do to be who he wants and where he wants to be. Gold is an old man who has known his whole life his one true purpose, to make you feel good and subsequently, to destroy you. Gold won’t give you what you want but it conveniently fills in the gaps that one would normally fill with false hope and dreams that will never come to fruition. As a mocking bystander, gold plays the sneakiest part, as it knows all the answers and chooses this path of treachery and misguidance. Yet, we continue to believe it is beyond our purpose to control ourselves, that life and societal standards will guide us to acceptance and success. Gold is the facilitator of our own demise. Pretending to give repose to our hectic lives, it is an acid to our wellbeing and our own personal humanity. Gold is our own personal war, yet for many, it is our own personal savior. Gold will steal the minutes of the day that I care not ponder of my inequities and disillusions. Gold gives me the false reality that I am as I desire and that I may someday have… what I feel I truly want. Maybe gold is but my own personal god, sheltering me from what is good and true. I am the sanctuary to disbelief and altered emotion. I am the juxtaposition of desire and hopelessness. I am the power that Gold gives me. I am the strength, be it of my reality or someone else’s, that will move you and I and the rest of the world around me. I am the master of my whithering dominion and Gold, pale and crisp, sits in my right hand, bearing flame and punishment, to do my bidding. Surrounding me with a gilded peace, I bask in frustration and wonder. Evermore will I wonder. Wondering, when will I let myself free. When will we be?