the pull of the past
steals my attention
breaks an ironclad focus
on the truth that’s at hand
breath becomes lost
as I stumble across
a familiar face
on a page,
a page that sears and stings
with the pain of regret —
regret that it might have been me
staring right back,
might have been me there
rightfully on track,
but instead the whole thing
strikes me right back
so far back, I need to remind myself
of the new, real, and fervent fire
that now burns within —
the very flame that replaced
that old smothered pile
of smoking and tormented ash,
once stifled by sick and cruel hands
and darkening eyes who never really
saw the power, never really had the faith
and never felt the realness inside me —
never, ever understood…
so I shake myself free
of the off-putting distractions
that so insidiously poked holes
in my present reality,
that so subtly threatened
to steer me off my path
I tell myself, no, this page, this sight
this thing isn’t you, isn’t right
you know what you’ve become —
what you’re becoming,
and that’s what you will own,
for better and forever,
completely unique and entirely yourself
Garbage Notes:
This poem at its core is about not getting distracted by social comparisons. In order to move forward in your life, you have to ignore those nagging little voices in your head that keep telling you where you should be.
Instead, you have to focus on where you are and make the best of the opportunities that are in front of you.
There’s an element of this poem that involves silencing the critics all around you. Not getting dragged down by people who don’t necessarily like the work you do. Maybe it’s just not for them. And that’s okay. When it comes to art, you really can’t give a fuck about what other people think. You have to follow your own path. And forget about trying to live in anyone else’s footsteps.
I think another big message in this poem is that we have to stop trying to live in the past. You can’t be afraid of trying new things, of redefining yourself in new ways. It’s so easy to get distracted by bullshit—on the internet, on social media, on television. It’s all noise. And it has nothing to do with the person you are now or who you’re trying to become.
Anyway, I have to be honest—this is a sort of generalized version of what this poem is actually about. If you want the deeper, truer, and more specific story behind why I wrote this, you’ll have to check out the initial release of Bastards of Distraction, which was issued as a paid post. I think the poem and commentary here has enough value on its own, which is why I decided to cover it on video, but I know some people like to get that extra in-depth coverage. So it is available for those who would like to become a paid subscriber.
Always grateful,
Franco
If you enjoyed this piece, a paid subscription would be the best way to show your support. But if you aren’t ready for that sort of commitment yet, you can always send me a one-time donation on my Ko-fi page.
Franco Amati 2025
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