Operate On Me

Operate on the patient.


It seems she’s lost her patience.


The machine’s beeping is slowing down.


There is no heart. She seems to need a replacement.


An ice sickle lodged in her chest.


No wonder she is so still..


Remaining non-responsive..


She’ll be sent to rehab, she cant recall the feeling.


Numb from all previous emotional beatings.


She is weary from the world’s revolving, she grabbed the revolver, and turned her back on the world.


The Doctors go in for surgery, as she lies unconscious asking God,


Who murdered me?

They told me emotions were a bitch, but I didn’t think she ever heard of me!



She’s angry.


The nurses forgot to stick her with the IV.

Now pain is the only joy she seeks.


Four doctors all inside her, trying relocate her heart, but they’re only blind, to what they don’t want to see.

Her heart is there; instead look what its grown to be.

Embodying an igloo — a shelter for the feelings she never learned to release.


She never felt capable.


Staring down at the table, screaming at the doctors

Someone Help Me!”.…..”Please!”


Her feelings are confusing because ironically agony brings her relief.


The world is in the waiting room anticipating her release, with a knife in the back pocket. Aimed at her back, for the next time she attempts to flee.


Unfortunately we don’t know which paralyzed her, the world or the doctors operating.


However now she is alive and conscience…except without much strength to feel


Currently she sits alone rehabilitating her trust.


Is insurance overrated?



Honesty’s Amenity

I’m sitting in my room

Reminiscing back to you

Images pass;

My head was pressed against your chest

partly on your shoulder, curving your neck

I try to clear my thoughts of fear

and let go of the day

How this began,

You whisper my name…


Dim red lights between us falling

filling in precious silhouettes, beryl

Beautiful and flowing down upon us

Sparks flying towards us dancing all around us

Evaporate in air


But I left before I knew

My future holding you.

All you saw of me-

My heart should speak for me,

But I should understand

that pushing you away-

It craves compassion and

strong arms to hold her.


You and me


Paper wings


Ink gold

Sunsets bold

Star filled nights

Deep as Atlantis.



A glow surrounding you

The love notes blew

Our wishes to the wind

Come and bring him back again


Gentle coral lights between us falling

forming into precious memories, beryl

Beautiful and flowing down upon us

Rays gliding towards us dancing all around us

Vanish in air


And I wonder how you felt

-I was fading inside

Opened my eyes

-Felt so bright this whole time I was blind

The room we hadn’t left

You closed the door


-And he wished he could take me away.


I left before you waved.

By then it was too late.

I wished on the moon

I’d always remember-


You and me


Paper wings


Amber gold

Heart bold

Star filled nights

Sweet as Fantasia


Calm black lights between us falling

forming into precious silhouettes, beryl

Beautiful and raining down on us

Ashes flying towards us dancing all around us

Dissolve in air


I look deep inside my eyes in the mirror

and your still there staring back.

I’ve tried, tried to out grow you

Savor just a part of you

and now..

Every thing has gone black…



The Past of My Presents Future Thoughts

This is just a passage of my feelings that have resurrected thoughts about my own personal philosophies.

My past and my future want to get acquainted, that idea I am not too fond of. I’ve been given the present as a gift, and I want to keep it sacred. Mostly because I am not trying to feel a scar from not giving enough attention to the “now“..

When it comes to the subject of our past it seems like his-story is yelling at me pleading with me to read it; on the other hand, it as though he solely feel in love with the cover of mine. Deciding to keep it in his pocket not only for show, but whenever he feels the urge to read it.

Taunting my past I contemplate how the depleted can feel undefeated. There are days I feel like Ali without the championship belt, still I find myself floating blissfully like butterfly with the zap of a bee. I realize I am a winner everyday because I wake up breathing.  The problem isn’t seeing that continence in my future, the dilemma is I feel like my past is suffocating me!

This causing me to wake up at night; realizing my future is only a dream. In result of these thoughts I stay awake chasing aspirations. Forgetting that I cannot become complacent with the comfort of my memories.

In the avoidance of sleep I visualize sitting in the laundromat. I am being hypnotized by the washing machines, as if I am witnessing my soul on the rinse cycle. I call this flooded clarity; meaning there is too much water for my eyes to see clearly. Peculiarly the spinning cycle creates focus.

With the simplicity of complexity imagine a blind insomniac. Envision a big picture, trying to pinpoint a definition for color. Its not so much depression as it is disappointment. Basically, my heart isn’t necessarily guarded rather vigilant.

I hope that the next time I cross paths with antiquity, I’ll be holding destiny’s hand with eyes full of glee and fulfillment radiating in my smile. Once this happens my present will be introduced to my future, and only then will I introduce my future to my past. For now…I continue to transcribe my transparent impalpable ambitions.