Make her see
through my eyes

Make her see
the peace I'm trying to find

Make her see
further than I could ever measure

Make her see
that right now I'm blind

The beautiful scars that you have gain from the storms you have endure

Lites up your Most beautiful soul, revealing your strength through it.

Touching the Hearts of those that gain a glimpse of it and knew..

Just how much that you had to endure, with Christ Jesus help.

To see the Creator, in your chemistry connected to Him here.

The same Savior whom went to the cross for us on Calvary.

And then on the 3rd day Risen to rescue us from our Sins.

Those same scars, that hides within you were put there.

Because of the Spirit that dwells within you Protected you.

For in reality you should be dead, and in the bowels of the earth.

But you have been rescued, from death several times here.

Because he is not done with you, Praise our Savior God.

Sludge black driveways
holding hazardous mindsets.

Back of his head is made of
white canvas; red strap; yum-yum.

You can see body in the window.
Cut like a Valley Girl diamond.

Brown ***** hair, faint.
Narrow shoulders, pointed.

Brows arch like arrowhead;  
floating above callous constellations.

Snarls of smoke from his cig;
dragging filter like a conscience.

He studies her while she studies
how life looks around her neck.

Closer to midnight, says Darling.
Gotta let her live in a dream-mo.

Inside the piggy bank, gold looks
like memories 'round her nape.

Peeking into the mirror's reflect,
mouthing her name, twirling hips.

What a time to be a star; stable
inside the crown of debris.

Completely secure in nakedness,
a streak of light swims closer.

Black bear fur, harboring glittery
fleas; her eyes look out and up.

It is as close as anyone ever tried.
Non-stop destruction, seductive.

Darling says, look at her look.
He takes a picture with his phone.

**** beauty, ******* to
the assertiveness of annihilation.

Looking at the picture, he curses
himself for not upgrading.

A fire overflows, as she has
one hand on her stomach and
another on her purse.

sans elegance not trying for
just words told in the daily
senses a tale told when
tall trees make their escapes
and long faces

on the streets concrete
stealing the sun buildings blind
all shadows
hiding in alleyways and parks
not there

the greens taken westward
nothing left but fake plants
wild roses wild anythings
a **** growing is a
miracle

there in the neon blushing the
iron closed gates the broken windows the anythings
foisted down can be rusted old told
as  the factories old men
on the corner left
forlorn

***** stolen drifting as well as can be
as could be known or told told by the swollen
ankles unkempt sides of the boulevards
running

not to here
but through
and how did you expect it?

My words are vocalizations of what is
cognitive reverberation upon my thoughts.
They are vapours of what was unintelligible
upon the surface, but sank to deeper reflections.

When they spilt on the white from inexistence
to my voice in simplistic vocalization of verse.
Then what collected in rendition collected forth.

Listen to my voice, now you are reading these
last vocal mentions not in yours but the perceiving
of what my voice resonates between. From thought
to paper welcome to my words in my echo of my voice.

I'm clouded within the vapor
of droplets that collect
                   in my lungs
to verse a drowning motion
                               that others swim upon