All throughout my life I've had to come to grips with being who I am. A spectacular mind, soft lips and never nothing more than dick. Yeah I can fuck, but I want to be more than the dude who could blow a back out. Remnants of what could be a relationship flash before my eyes. But as I reach the top of the stairs I find the final unwritten chapter of revelation stares me in my crayon brown eyes. It's not them it's you.

The Book read, "your selfish to believe that by giving someone all your attention means they should do the same. By trying to make someone your Queen warrants them to crown you their king. The King their words describe you as. You're stupid to think they can know of the ways you will treat them off only one to a few brief conversations. You're not the a great guy they proclaim you to be. It's all your imagination. And on this day you're imagination has abandoning you."

A heavy sneeze breaks my concentration as I watched the clock on my computer go from 12:30 to 1:30 to 3:30 as quick as my eyes can blink. As my imagination walks down the stairs after handing me the note, I can hear it mumbling words of my own perceived greatness. "Sorry Ass Nigga"

Yet as I'm left at the top of the stairwell, my head hung in shame I glance up and realize that this old broke down corridor has a beautiful view. I can see the city skyline, glowing in all of its essence. It's at this moment while I'm alone that I still feel like a champion. I feel better than ever, I feel like I can be myself, that I KNOW the greatness of who I am even if others fail to realize it. I am the king of Kings.

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