The Point

What if I had the luxury in the complacency of mind?

What if I could simply step away from my point-of-view and stomp in the shoes of the less-active?

What if I could make decisions that will harm order?

What if I could dull my senses and shirk the responsibility of a seer?

What if I could remain calm and collective when I see people making wrong decisions?

What if I wasn’t taxed with knowing what is best for other people?

What gives me the fucking right to have the knowledge of knowing what’s best for other people?

What did I do to be cursed with such vigilance and then constantly involved with the unseeing?

Why does my spirit split when the one I love is being stripped from my tired hands by the stupidity of a million people?

Why do I have to deal with a million people…packed inside the little body that makes up my whole world?

Why am I fed eventual problems wrapped in chocolate and artificial sweetener?

Why do I do everything within my power to bolster the nature of special people, yet watch them devour me?

Why do I hold myself accountable for mistakes made by the women dragging me down with their wrongdoings?

Why do I stay..

Why do I continue to rationalize the irrational, of women, in an attempt to silence my screaming spirit? That spirit, soul, and mind warning me to warn them of what I can see before them.

Why doesn’t anyone listen?

Why doesn’t anyone listen?

Why can’t people see?

Why don’t people use common sense?

Why do people see the proof in my warnings, yet refuse to acknowledge the correctness when it deals with them personally?

Why do people need things to be ruined?

Why do people need pain?

Why do people fail people?

Why do people fail me?

Why are people selfish to the selfless and selfless to the selfish?

Why do people break people?

Why did God choose me to have this knowledge yet present me with blind people that refuse to learn?

What in the fuck is the point?

I fight…

Love is

Love is stronger than the pain,

Love is stronger than doubt,

Love is stronger than distance,

Love is stronger than gravity and burns hotter then the son,

Love is peace,

Love is second chances,

Love is understanding,

Love is change,

Love is invigorating,

Love is perseverance,

Love is keeping to promises,

Love is strengthening,

Love is understanding weaknesses,

Love is durable,

Love is empowering,

Love is bolstering,

Love is happiness,

Love is joy,

Love is understanding temporary sadness,

Love is light,

Love is light,

Love is music,

Love is learning,

Love is working through problems,

Love is the solution,

Love is seeing the truth,

Love is opened arms,

Love is trying,

Love is intense,

Love is powerful,

Love is stronger than uncertainty,

Love is character,

Love is health,

Love is healthy,

Love is vitality,

Love is vital,

Love is to be catered to,

Love is a conversation,

Love is time,

Love is knowledge,

Love is new information,

Love is intelligence,

Love is trying,

Love is supportive,

Love is goo,

Love is feeling,

Love is you,

Love is I,

Love is we,

Love is communication,

Love is evolving,

Love is improving,

Love is belief,

Love is trust,

Love is stronger than discomfort,

Love is thought,

Love is believing,

Love is giving love a try,

Love is us,

Love is more than a word,

Love is more than a sentence,

Love is stronger than any man,

Love is thousands of actions compiled into a box of understanding,

Love is calming,

Love is heaven,

Love is within my arms,

Love is within your hair,

Love is within your eyes,

Love is within your stern stare,

Love is here,

Love is all the way over there,

Love is tears,

Love is tribulations,

Love is victory,

Love is withstanding,

Love is tremendous,

Love is assistance,

Love is bug,

Love is warm,

Love is between,

Love is with,

Love is together,

Love is granting grace,

Love is granting grace,

Love is granting grace,

Love is granting grace,

Love is witnessing,

Love is reformation,

Love is emotional,

Love is growth,

Love is sticking in there when times get tough,

Love is lovely,

Love is separate from mental devices,

Love survives,

Love is confirmation,

Love is you,

Love is me,

Love is you,

Love is me,



Love is trying,

Love is trying,

Love is trying,

Love is everything of peace.

⁃ Love

Tiny Hum

I wonder if they can feel me…

Like really feel me crawling inside her chest when they hug her,

I wonder if they can feel the cold of the lingering ghost floating above her head,

I wonder if they’re afraid of shadows…

No, like REALLY afraid of shadows…running into until their hearts stop registering the motion,

I wonder if they can hear the tiny humming in her ear of me trying to keep it together,

Of me trying to keep us together,

Of me trying to keep her together.

I am here; there,

I am both with and without you,

I am both your kindest pain and your unexplained happiness,

I am both your strength in your muscles and the shortness in your breath,

I am always here; there,

I am always the solid ground beneath your feet and the unstable shelter above your brow,

You/I   are/am your biggest priority.

I wonder if they can feel my sweat when they kiss her on her cheek

That big screaming of me trying to keep me together

Make It

Typical talking,

Watch! Mother is running to her expectation again,

The heavy hell in heated hollers shakes my bed frame,

Typical taking…communicate in ways that makes me regret ever I said anything,

I can feel the fire from underneath the door, and skin on my teeth and that unholy war,

Dripping from her dreamy pores like acid pouring on the broken floor,

Mama’s broken gates, don’t open no more,

Father’s screaming speech kills the hope that we keep far from his sight,

Her heart bleeds when they fight,

She has her wings but will refuse to take flight,

Tonight she’ll choose to make right-

12 years of mistakes,

12 years of sweet nothings disguised as slurred hate,

She will dance, and dance until her ankles break,

And finally have time to talk speak to her son.


Typical talks,

I’ve seen her analytical mind-spikes stalk the heaven of her dreams…

The truth in realism a little bit harsher than it seems,

I’ll sleep again and hope to wake to peace,

She’s finally dancing alone finally made her peace.


There are certain platitudes unfamiliar to the raging optimists,

With emotion, they dislocate their arms stretching their palms to dry sky,

Dripping eyes black spots, sun front, blue backdrops,

Go blind, go blind,

Won’t stop, can’t stop,


Strict, a very strict bearing.


The sky forgets,

Believe the destination to which you would like your praises to reach is fixed,

Raving optimists,

The good still exists,

Good still persists,

What ever I am convinced-

Has taken ahold,

Raise my hands, burn my skin bold,

Burn my skin gold,

The story my sin told,

To me,

For me, to recognize my actions are free,

From me.


My fucking arms hurt,

My elbows pop,

My tilted neck’s sore,

Up, up and away,

One day, not too far from now,

My dedications will drift away until the sky cries back.

Liquid Salt

There’s only people here,

7 perfumes, or caloans, I can’t tell,

Well “colognes”, I can’t spell,

Tear…tear gas,

Smells like armpits and fresh ass.


What are they covering up,

I think it runs a little deeper than body odor,

Maybe self-disappointment…the type facilitated by manipulative people,

The type we think simply goes away as we get older,

And then it doesn’t…so we invest in stay-away spray and cook in it in a social oven,

They’re spraying their lower spirit trying to convince the crowd that they’re approachable.


No air current, frozen as fear does us,

The metro railing providing a cool beat that takes us,

Just for a second,

Away from these metal cages,

The brakes hit, the metal rages,

Screeches, teaches us that we can trust our sense to judge our surroundings,

Paranoia binding our palms to the bars,

Around the cars the railroads wrap,

8 steel tunnels the rail cars trap,

Us within ourselves waving like meaty blades of grass,

Tear…tear gas,

Salty armpits and fresh ass consume my early morning.






It would hurt me to see that sun I’ve run from for so long,

…cold heart, a burning back,

A burning lack of visibility of what dreams would occur if I bound myself to my happiness,

I used to fear being happy.,

Searching corridors and springing around corners for the next disappointment,

That time more personal, that time harsher,

I would tremble with my inability to accept the rapid upheaval of emotion unearthed from my tormented past,

I would keep myself attached to my twisted upbringing and spin out of control for months on end,

I would often fantasize about the glory in the end-

To the swinging pendulums beating at my ribs.


I used to scream when I needed to be heard,

Poisoning my statements instead of polishing my words,

Unwanted attention struck my tender back like loose lashes of slave whips,

With each crack, I would weep in mind,

Crying tears of thoughts my actions would rebuke.


I…had a golden sun holding an unloaded handgun to the back of my head,

It wasn’t the truth in death but the fear of dying dead,

That made me turn around.


Single One

Fickle the intrigues of single men leeching to she bodies for that sugary life support,

Draining the effects of those glass touches to which shatter on contact,

Four snipes of ungodly accurate dialogue from his unwanted guests would snatch his bloated ego from its hallowed throne,

The wandering species allergic to the purported arrests of undeniable commitment-

Flock among themselves to combat the uninvited hopeful,

Damn any woman willing to build an empire with only the sighs of my aspirations under the mumbles of my tongue; be damned myself.

Your Lives

I cannot wait any longer,

It feels,

Just one more second,

Could splint my heels.


I…we have walked years,

And talked about a form of hope-

So much that it caused a ringing in our ears-

We’d try to wash out with unwanted social soap.


In attempt to dissociate ourselves from our annoying reality,

We firmly placed ourselves in the life of others,

We would read their books and follow their press like a high school varsity team…

We would not truly benefit from it,

Not one bit it would seem,

Their corrupted heartbeat would become ours,

And their blood in our bloodstream,

We’d take their path through the darkened cave,

And never live a second of our own lives until we feel the cold embrace of our lonely graves.


We cannot wait any longer to mention,

The blatant stupidity in ignoring ourselves,

Wrapped up, wrapped up tight,

In their skies and dim daylight would cause the cold to creep-

Into the veins the frost would seep,

Eating away at warm meat we keep locked under our skin,

We know we are products of our failures and heralds of our sin,

But I really believe we can learn to wish again,

If we got impatient about what we wanted.