Dust I am

star home from the sky
now burned I lay, ash.

Dust I am

carved in stone
slain in soil.

Dust I am

and dream to ride
astride the breeze.

I've stayed at my mom's
an extra week and a half
because my car's transmission crashed
anxious to get back
but laying late in my old bedroom
which nibbles at me
filled to the brim with
eighteen years of my life
I start to cry, to pray
that the mechanic calls
and tells me it'll take him
a few more days

My parents might say
I've grown up since I left the Bay
that Long Beach has seen me mature
sure I'm older, more composed
but if you ask me,
I just feel detached
and lonely.

Grandpa left me his keyboard
I left it in the corner for years
when late this very night
my spine grew chill with fright
for the keys clacked
of their own accord
as if wanting to be heard
then my spine did thaw and a smile bloom
for this phantom wasn't bringing doom
It was just a reminder from 'ol Grandpa
to let music fill the room

As pained as we may be physically there is no greater hurt than a poet living in a poemless age

I am fire, burning, burning for another chance at love.

My mind is a vessel o'erflowing with many great ideas.