the hip children of the night
prey on logos and women,
they have created counterfeit cultures
made from images of yore
slipped their flesh under blankets
next to lovers or empty space
and declared war against
their own human race
chased down roads in eclectic threads
hollering into the wind with wild hair
that navigate over skin unaware of
history and tradition.

while the feral animals look on with
muted colors and salivate
with a thirst to apply
their instincts,
their tendencies
to seek out the enemy
instead of calmly waiting
for their alarming arrival.

to the women of my life. Im ashamed to say I've done some things that never should have done. leaving you stranded at the first sign of trouble. not being there when needed at the most. taking you for granted thinking you always be there, how forgetful am I. the times we shared. the time I should have spent. all the gifts given to me foolishly spent as if a young kid with money for the first time. You know that first time you bought you own clothes. my mother would slap me for you. my grandmother would have loved you. I wish you were here my brother speaks of you often. we both wonder where are you hopefully living. miss your punk *** too. don't get f* up you know I love you. I miss the way you subtly flirting with me I'm miss you lying. I respect your ways and failed to recognize the fact you respected mine. all of us have secrets. some of us wish to share more. yeah I'm still selfish in my ways into a matured understand the old cliche goes you never know what you have until you lose it. knowing what I know now we were just Batman and Robin Bonnie and Clyde bye bye blackbird. it's too bad sometimes my mother taught me way better than that. my sister would have disowned me not I'm a little more mature there's no second chance cuz the second hand is broken thus I leave it at that the woman of my life.

I wake up thinking of ways to entertain her and please her within the spectrum our existence. even through all the flaws and setbacks I have yet to accomplish or obtain any mastery of loving or living her what's so to speaking of her. I want to be her morning breath. I want to be that first cigarette a smoker who has smoke for 10 years has in the morning. That first pull. That first inhale that first exhale. I want to be that sudden change that urge to quit. Yet the same reason she can't turn away. somehow I still struggle with the mastery and the ability to obtain the way of loving her entire being
renee.

Give me vanilla ice cream
With Lemmon ice tea
With a big ice cube
And I'll be kool mo dee.

Mixtape coming prolly sooner then expected
Just like me! But far more passion is invested
Into these nourished flourishing musicals channeling beauty
I know one day you'll see the shine no matter how you view me
You can hide inside & draw the blinds; ignore me, or adore me.
Story goes, the fire stays alive, throughout the winds it's soaring.
I am burning and i'm flying now, you'll hear me crying out
"My love is unconditional, come join me in this flying bout!"
Please come flow and fly around, melting the tempting forces
That are always shrieking "DON'T YOU DARE GO IN THAT AIR! THIS CHAIR IS HOME, *****!"
Traveling the speed of flight, no motors, cells, seatbelts, or doors.
You'll start to wonder why they never thought of shaking feet from floors
Or you could say "No thanks, I'm busy, I got all my medicine."
Ok... Just know i'll always be around to give your head a spin c;
Direction with a mending twist, I wanna see you free as ****
A lion cub, a rising sun, the shackles falling from your tongue
I'll never win, I'm loser loser, still I channel breath & depth,
So if you wish, the floor is yours, keep following the steps,
I and all who fly will soar so far beyond our deaths.
We're always getting better,
Till the sun gobbles the shelfs.
We crack a laugh back at the past,
Glad we made it past ourselves.

Scattered Thought.
Coming soon.

It's not cute,
I don't find it funny.
The lack of concern for education,
And your glasses aren't cute either.

I'm growing quite tired of the lame leaders.
Expectation to teach the future generation.
The warriors, in a future of unknowing,
By the ignorant, traditionalist.

And I could sit here all day,
Catching glints of light off your hip glasses.
Peppered with egocentric, infantile remarks.
So cute
The lack of education
So cute
The lack of nutrition
So cute
The false profits; the obtuse teachers
So cute
Your hip glasses.