Bleeding to death by a thousand cuts makes my heart nuts with the run not coming and the next turn running I’ll be stunning when my body lays quiet I’ll not be sad I’ll be with dad knowing life was the mission for which I came I left in the hands of better men who came and went telling stories that got bent over time and history there’s not rhyme or mystery they knew things we don’t and they got wiped out.

Be the person you know you are and life up your heart knowing no start to the way life crushed Art make space in your life if you feel like it’s too hard change by testing your network they’ll either get to work or they won’t. The answer will be the truth and the permission to move on.

Let them go they drowning and you can swim wish them well and say oh well. I tried and you lied. To me. I loved you and you turned away from me. The path was made for me but yours was a way to change the humanity moved further in away from me closer to a stranger who’s estranged to the danger in the manger. The kids gone, 2 years ago you forgot you had one…

You plant thoughts as leaves gently wander,
Passions pulse through pathways, profound and precise,
In the purity of petals, where phronesis lies.

You, the paragon of patience, a perennial sage,
With palms that nurture petals, planting wisdom on each page.
Under the pergola of pondering, you prune with care.

From the garden of the mind, in a perpetual maze,
Paving pathways of purpose,
In the garden, pure thoughts are found

BB

I sat there waiting for myself;
patiently, so anxiously- my thoughts between beauty,
love, ambiguity; a tragedy and all manners of happenings.
While we were both picturing the inkling of make-up
***- but we lacked the foundation of making love.

Holding onto the fear of more arguments
afterwards, so tightly like a hug. I was choked
out for most of my words, fitting over the hand
of fabrications, like a perfectly fitting glove.

It all became a tacit question
between the both of us: “this time, will we make
an effort at making love, or is it another downwards
spiral of us just being so down to ****?”

We were both smoking long blunts;
-having a much longer conversation
and she confessed a truth about self:

[Her hands had grown a fatigued touch,
too tired to touch the rest of itself
Her body a trade of secrets; constantly learning
all of the best places, to please herself.

And lastly, our eyes, both held history of
**** pictures- seeing each other with our naked
eyes; and of course, the many glares of knowing
how to please ourselves.

      Two lovers, who truly loved themselves.

My attachment to you became a weapon against me.
There was no avoiding getting shot by the bullets
Bitter words ripped through what little confidence I had left,  
dragging me down to self hatred.
Merely confirming what I already knew, but hoped wasn’t true.
I was never good enough.
Replaceable, disposable, worthless.

being perceived is so uncomfortable
and yet, something I want at the same time
to be seen and heard is an instinctual need humans have
but I also hate that people have opinions of me
ideas made up about my character based on one interaction they had with me probably on a day where I wasn’t in the mood to even be alive and they crossed paths with me…
I don’t want to be looked at, please don’t stare,
but I also want you to notice my existence, acknowledge I’m alive
I don’t want to be pretty or for anyone to feel bad about themselves because they looked at me
I don’t need you to say hi to me or make small talk, in fact, I ******* hate it
but I also want you to know I’m a good person and I like to make people laugh so let me tell you a joke on my behalf
I’m so uncomfortable when someone sees a photo of me,
Are they thinking how ******* stupid I look too? How thin my upper lip is? Do they think I’m trying too hard?
I’m so embarrassed but I also want you to like it.
Existing is embarrassing and so is the fact that you know I need to breathe to be alive and I have to eat to survive

You smoke me like a cigarette, absorbing the nicotine to relieve yourself
Then you drop it to the ground and twist your foot onto it
I observe how you hold the new cigarette between your fingers, the cloud you exhale drifting away into the sky
I am useless to you now. Just like any other girl

I am a poem in motion, in itself-
I strike an empty canvas; drawing out inspiration from
the library of experiences sitting on a majestic shelf,
“what picture shall I craft,” to showcase an unheard story,
an unsung song- “and what lines shall I once again cross”

Poetry has no bounds;- its never short of words,
its expression is wild; tamed by the artist’s pen- my sword
to fight against the marching violence in my mind.
My words- are all a part of me; they separate me from the
entire world, as I watch everything unfold into the paper
where I write down my thoughts.

[the poet-
is an outsider; a broken writer, who gets his fix from
his literature art. It’s an addiction, and a cure to my everything-
yet it’s still nothing. It is here, it is there, it is everywhere; still
it comes from nowhere.

[a poem-
are her words tender, but also so raw. They are the length of her
elegant body, they are short of breath- she is my answer, she is
my many questions, she’s a truth made out of my lies. She is
everything to my nothing

No poem is a mistake; every poem is perfect-
written by imperfect people.

I kissed a night;-
that had promised to keep me warm inside, falling
in love with its ghost- her absence haunts me still.
Steered by the afterimage of a crafty mindset;
a dramatic picture- its frame, filled with all pains;
their hurts written in unflinching paint.

Suddenly, I find myself hanging it all on a wall;
staring at it in a perfect dark, a dark work of
art- capable of still seeing it all.

Sometimes, its just her, him, them or it;
how I choose to see it, isn’t how well I express it.
Killing time, while battling a bipolar practice
of depression; that promised me just a subtle kiss-
but had embraced me in its dark aggression.

I kissed a night;-
that had promised to keep me warm inside, and
it was that very kiss that ****** all the life out of me.