I don't wanna have to be poetic in love no more
only choose the citrus shampoo and perfume
for you My Love.
I don't wanna have to celebrate every month anniversary
but I will never forget March 27 - that's when I realized how much you mean to me.

Won't push your name outta my dictionary
or your face outta my head.

I don't wanna have to outdo myself every night
I can't always be your guardian
But I can work a lullaby

Instead of writing ballads - I cook for you
pretty much breathe for you
I do it all idealistically and thorough
it's just that..
I don't get poetic in love no more.

I make your bed for you,
but don't open the door.

I cooked pretzels for your birthday,
instead of gifting you a rose.

I tell you everything I feel,
but nothing comes in prose.

Sometimes I think
the reason I cling to you
is because you haven't had the time to hurt me yet.
But I want to believe
straightforward that
You are just the one for me.

I can't turn wistful, reminiscing about the times I played with cherubs in rose gardens
turn mud- and blood-stained linens white
no matter how long I try
no matter how hard I rub
Can't wash off the impurity or the vile serpent slithering up my left profile
cause innocence was lost.

In those gardens
my hands bled from thorns
a dozen bruises on my knees from the dozen hundred times
I fell but stood right up.

My friend lit up my first cigarette
she told me I didn't know how to smoke
I couldn't inhale the poison into my lungs
no matter how long I tried.

My closest circle was corrupted with alcohol
spawned a couple drinking parties, liquor flowing down our throats like a cascade
and I was getting good at it.

We were driven to manic places
youth was glamorous like a firefly-lit sky
I was always off to the races
and when we got dropped off by Villa Gemini

I doubted for the first time if this was what I wanted.

Not gold hoops with matching wine cups
on white yachts sailing down the Styx
I changed my ways
rubbed myself clean
leaving scars that will remind me
of all the crazy things I've been
and now when I crave something magnificent
I lean forward for a big kiss
Shadowed by a lemon tree
that comes with nothing evil
Caressing the hair of yours and conquering my ego.

Men are like roses - pretty but painful to get ahold of.
Like top-shelf champagne - savor them until you can't.
I sip like a lord
Fans and vinyls spin around
I sweet text you
Rain on you emoji hearts

I don't want dollar trees
Just you all over me
Your grandfather's clock ticking
And your daddy's embroidery

No rose will ***** my hands tonight.

Let's stroll into your daddy's country club bb
Play "Right Time" by Nikki Lane in the back of a jeep
because bae, it's always the right time to do the wrong thing

Macadamias, argans, coconuts are what I bathe in, Voice Memoing my thoughts, future poetry.
Bathwater hot like Hades's breath
love or die by the hot
My eyes blue like Neptune yet sweet like a honeycomb
and the thoughts that don't stop coming linger
like a superb plot.

Unkillable but sleeping with a gun.
Intrepid but afraid of rearview mirrors
in deserted parking lots.

I left Alanya and drove opposite of Konakli a week after the fires invaded.
I thought I was going to die.
I went to Lake Salda where it wasn’t raining ash
Sick of the red skies
and the AC that I so loved.
I ran away from smoke clouds and I didn't wanna go back.
But what's evil lingered
and so did hope.

I left Alanya and never went to Konakli
I saw the epicenter of wildfires in my county
but never the flames.
The flames saw me.

The desolation haunted me
Didn't buy a single martini
And the ash in the water bugged me
but what could I have done? do not ask me
On the bright side the sun couldn't burn me

And finally
I flew home leaving flames and havoc behind me
Speaking mildly
I thought I wasn't gonna come back.
One lesson I've learned
is as simple as that:
What's evil lingers
and so does hope.

I remember when I was 16
I was my only God
Burning brightly at both ends
heart still on the mend
vaping cherry in the parking lot
with bff's.

Hurts to think I didn't cherish that enough.
But what can I say other than
I was 16 and I was my only God.

Try to keep it 100.
Try to stay this hot.
Try to get that 1000.
Try to be on top.

I rode a ferris wheel amidst a thunderstorm - I wasn't afraid of anything. I worked a day shift with the streets on fire.
Sunburns didn't matter - I was a **** wildfire.
I miss middle school, just cause I was young and man I was shining, stars scattered wherever I went and people I looked up to applauded me for being the man.
I was 15 and they treated me like a god.

But when the night fell I failed to summon light
I asked for matches but nobody was kind
I went to high school
and I hated my life
But finally I've realized there's more good days left in my life.

I was at peak in 2019
that hot I can't combust
But if I'm in need for matches, I learned to ask God.

I met someone at 18
who showed me a different point of view on life
And I thought to myself
that maybe I need faith
that maybe I can feel that way
again.

I've grown out of being humble like I've grown up from being awkwardly limited.
Before my sunnier days, my heart was hanging in my chest like a rigorous bird cage
and it took one word
one simple action
to release my happiness, sadness, anger, glamor and marvel to wander amidst splendor and ordinariness of the planet Earth.

So I became a poet
gave life to a couple hundred poems
that I defend with life period.

If I dipped my head in stardom
and were to shine down upon millions
I would never show up in a black suit and a tie

I didn't choose the language that my soul speaks
and I'm proud.
I never wanted my art to be evaluated
interpreted wrong
because my art is my gladness, my fear, my sadness, my smile, my thunder, my hail and my hotness.
For I change like the weather and I love this climate.
Like the wildest river I meander and I know no ocean to fade into.

No matter the pressure, I won't snap like a rubber band
I won't let the world **** me
Or stamp my precious flowerbeds
Spill water of misconception on my poems
I won't let them

And when the time comes to defend my legacy
I won't show up in a black suit and a tie.

It takes nothing from me to feel like a housewife reclined in front of TV
reading a book I’ve read a hundred times before with the hum of stupid shows in the back of my aching head in the afternoons.
Because it took much from me to realize that the right thing to do when the world is burning
is to sunbathe by the fire that it’s breathing.
And not to give it a second thought.

During my period of self bravery I've lost more than I've gained materialistically
to make it up - I've discovered new traits that had been slumbering deep within me
and what I’m most proud of is that I've learned how to think realistically.

And whatever controversial you do
should not be given a second thought

Because having lost connection with the control tower and cruising in the thunderclouds
I came to understand that the world cleansed from everyone’s buzz
is quiet and pure, like a tulip garden - serene like driving home down from Tulsa.
So in conclusion, when a fruit is sour, it may not be the only fruit in the orchard
same if the road is boarded up there is always some way to go around.
And all the early drives to work
coffee sipping on the parking lot
local radio blaring in the rush hour
to keep my mind at bay from God
things that ruin you should not be given a second thought.

I’m alienated
but I can’t stand withering pinned to a spot

I’m alienated
but I never gave it a second thought