she utters her existence with a cry for help
muffling her sorrow as she ages
fine wine overheating in the garden of evil
hourglass woman pouring herself out
white eyes most vulnerable to camera light
flashes of happiness escape outside sobriety
inside the territory of the boundaries set for her
she exists when we speak her name
water mixes with her blood
deluding illusions made by us
merlot no longer holds pigment
without her eyes to cry cups half empty
she lives when her name is written
meaning she will live forever
her pen a megaphone between fingers
screaming back to her roots
silent when she drinks midday
closing her door to trap her thoughts
paper being her platform
she is home when she can be loud again

i would have thought the universe spat in my face
while getting gas after leaving your place
caught up in a brief interval of violent downpour
living in the shadow of shelter built for me
clouds drool for several minutes afterwards
i am dry beneath manmade canopies
you are stretching across the sky
free from conformity
fondling with branches dangling loose
jealousy writhes in my sturdy upbringing
if it were not for my pact with the universe
i would have taken this as a sign to leave
how infatuated trees are with you
how the sky cries for you
how roots untangle themselves for you
but i understand that when sun showers occur
the universe is with me more than ever
tangling herself with my emotions
bright and weeping
all at once
colliding in ways that neglect to care for one another
you are too fearful of things you cannot see
unknown territory primarily causing you concern
i drive miles for you on a daily basis in the dark
but what is distance if you have the sky at your fingertips
grasping for what is left of your horizon
i am merely stuck admiring sunrises for the time being
until the storm passes in front of me
unfaltering repetition in your unsteady breath at night
beauty held inconsistently in consistent
chaos

inherently i understand that i am enough
but i wish i wasn't as easily disposable
as most people make me out to be
my time equating to nothing more than a block
hiding in corners to protect my back
fearful of concealed knives and sweet smiles
i wish for nothing more than visible venom
please conceal yourself clearly in a syringe
fill my veins with nothing more than permanence
a certain vacancy awaits your half-hearted arrival
during my downfalls into despair
crying alone under the eye of the moon
poison of my own choosing infiltrates my lungs
some nights my liver as well
weighing down what you toss in the air so freely
hoping for something concrete to return to your hands
but forgetting that gravity has its' own laws
no matter how much alteration we convince ourselves
we are capable of
prayer does not tie together loose ends
hope does not resolve hostility
i cannot mold myself to easily accept authentic feelings
anymore than you can do to reject that
of your own

Love me deep
Love me true
And maybe I will give you coconut
From my hips too.

I’m shady because I want more?

I’m the snake because I chose not to slither?

I wasn’t built to fit in your circle anyway and for years you didn’t encouraged me but laughed when I was “out of shape.”

I didn’t even want the last laugh, I ended all my moves pretty shallow.
I thought the grass was mowed so tell me, how low does it really go?

See from this love village a boy grew a rose from his own soul and soil with no water or seed from his fellow peers.
To only realize, he was prince all along and when he tried to show others the way
They ignored him.

As times goes on, the circle gets smaller.
We will never forget The Marathon Continues.
However, everybody can’t go.
Everybody isn’t built nor ready for this race or this fast pace.

Still painting my pictures perfect, they never needed us.
We couldn’t get inside the doors but now they’re greeting us.

Ash to ashes.
Burning dust til dusk.
Only love we see through the lust.

More than just a poet, these words aren’t enough.

I been trying to find the perfect way to open this.

At the same time, I really don’t think that anyone notices.

Behind these word’s a person that had lost themself and the only thing they could do is run and fight themself for their pursuit to happiness.

A simple man.
No love from his own wife.
Well maybe not in his love language at least.
They can’t even hold a conversation.
Take the *** away, there’s nothing left to lay in.
Debating with himself like everything is a complication.

She’s angry.

Always feeling you’re down and out.
Your outer shell is hard, but inside you’re crying out.
And can’t even find comfort to just talk about it.

Comfort is a thing these days that seems so challenging.
You have to find the middle ground for both of you to balance in.

To find a partner who’s on target with everything you’re missing is inevitable.
Can’t even find a cure or therapy not even using ThereFlu.
I know a lot about it, I been there too.
When the only thing you’ve got is right there staring right back at you.
Surrounded by mirrors.

In a fitting room with hits and misses like target practice.
Only thing you seem to do right is moving backwards.

Fronting for people who don’t have your back.
Nor your best interest.
Especially when they’ve never experienced your position.
This all takes persistence.

And to these, one person beings who swear that they’re so in love, when everything hits the fan how do you stay above?
Maybe you can help the next, or spark their mind to understand that everything starts from your mental and deep within.

So where do we begin?

This love cycle’s something that just happens to us over and over again.

Break the walls.
Your fitting room shouldn’t expose and fragile yourself.

Take that weight off of your shoulders and put it back on the shelf.
Give it to God.