A Poetry Slam Called I Don't Slam

This spoken word piece is for anyone who has ever felt like they're performing in a room they don't belong in.

For the ones who followed the crowd, turned around, and found themselves alone. Alone like I felt when I joined a slam competition and had never performed anything like that before.

This is my first poetry slam performance, shared with you as a reminder that you too can do whatever scares you. And if you feel trapped, you'll find a way out, eventually.

For everyone who has knocked on doors that kept slamming shut, bleeding their knuckles raw, wondering if they'd ever find fresh air.

It's about time you stopped chasing.

Transcript

His poem is called I Don't Slam. I don't slam, Anything other than the doors of the rooms that were not meant for me. You know those rooms? Thick air, Heavy mood. The ones where it's even hard to just be. You claw your way in, Following the crowd, And at some point you turn around, See nothing. Before understanding Arado have a sea on a cloud. You know, Daydreaming supports your creativity with solid consistence. Those clouds, They do offer the path of least resistance. We're not made to follow rules that were not even meant for us. But we are rushing, Rain, Hail, Or snow to hop on that goddamn bus. They say it's what's best, Study, Work, Marry, Buy. They say stay put in your lane, Don't even dare to try. But all was left of me was nothing. When I didn't know how to live. How to be in my own presence without the need for someone else to give. The door also often slammed shut at my face when I was mistaken about my place in this goddamn race. I'd bleed my knuckles raw trying to knock through, Hoping to grasp some fresh air. I knew it wasn't true. I told myself I'm not good enough performer. I don't slam. Until I truly stop giving a shit for what's being shown on the gram. Faces half bot half human making photoshop a far away worry about reality. Looking out the window to see life. It's got nothing to do with your IG story. I'm here with you. I have the chance to give it a try, So do not keep my mouth shut even before your eyes. We need to pray, But come on. When we look inside, The consequences of the noises around is all we find. Schud's. Schudents. Enough of those voices making us comply. The world is nothing if you throw away your wings and forget to fly. It's the cracks, The scars, The crooked lines that make it strive. So who's next? Come over and take over the mic.