The Miseducation of the misunderstood

The Miseducation of the misunderstood harbors overwhelming anxiety; which creates layers underneath the shell.

Always home like a tortoise, but I am a nomad in my own body.

The feeling of loneliness sets in every time one of my personalities decide to leave.

I am wandering

Invested in a venture that is company to misery.

I declare communicative bankruptcy.

Do me the service of sending all my messages, subliminally. This misinterpreted status will be one for the books.

Face it —

Who are we without the royalties in freedom of speech?

Too many unwritten rights you have, that wasn’t taught to me.

Do you know me?

Do I know you?

How valuable is identity to a thief? The only benefit in this hijacking is the doubt you will finally understand that…

I volunteered, but I never asked.

Never raised my hand in class.

So many questions that still need an answer

So many answers that should be questions.

What will be the solution?

It seems I’m the problem.

I am a weapon – non lethal

A dangerous mind shooting stars

Trynna reach the moon, cause I was told that’s as far as love can go.

I am a victim of time!

Trapped behind the bars in the same cage the bird sung.

Those melodies still linger.

The ink blots begin to show.

I think it’s bleeding through!

I use to dream in cursive until…

Murder she wrote.

Now it’s killing me softly.

The standard is to understand

The extreme is to overstep.

The Miseducation of the misunderstood can’t be taught only felt.



So as I recline behind these lies

Seeking to find my own peace of mind, avoiding the real troubles of life.

I take a step back behind the glass of my memories museum, to look at myself in the complicating process and try to explain

why my body’s dictionary defines you as necessary.

I feel nostalgic, because I am longing to re-embrace that one time you and I shared the same smile.

Only that is in the past…and this dedication to you is a blast from the future.


So as I sit at my computer —


Trying to let the past marinate into my fingers,

enabling  my conscience to go through this hard laboring pain,

of motioning my words and molding them into the harsh daggers of the truth compiled of words

developing into similes & personifications.

They stop…

While my minds racing, yet nothing is appearing upon the screen because in reality….

Depicting my feelings onto one lonely piece of paper is just like talking to myself,

only the pen is responding with curves and loops,

and all that’s left written on the paper was the word



[Liar:”to be untruthful“]


See the lies Ive told you, allowed me to realize…

Love isn’t strong enough. Love isn’t visible or existing, just like time.

I’ve discovered: “Love is an ability, not a feeling“.

And noticing the stupidity of being played, makes you feel even worse than having

your heart broken by someone who had a mutual feeling of “Love



I came across my emotions, and every night before that I go to sleep,

With my heart still asking me…Why?

Why do I keep allowing my heart to get tangled in the obstacles of this game you normal beings call life?


Let me sit and list:

All the times I was fine with calling you back to your convenience.

All the times I didn’t mind if you didn’t have the time to kick back. (again to your convenience)

All the times I told you that you weren’t wasting my time,


But see there’s when I lied

Because you always felt it necessary to bless me with your presence or voice,

whenever you were bored out of your mind, or feeling a bit “lonely” on the bed-side.

But now its about time I be upfront, because with our relationship was comprised of lies.


I just wish I had the courage to tell you the truth.

Instead of hearing you repeat ever so famous white lie.

“I Love You Too Baby”



Someone to Scream for

Someone scream for the little girl inside of her.


Mothering everyone’s problems.


Yearning to be held by her own, and switch back the roles.


Life has never been easy.


She witnessed a life of rage.

Endured every form of abuse.

And is now her own emotional slave.


Someone scream for the woman she’ll grow to be.


3 little pigs, life doesn’t knock like the wolves, it continues to blow down houses but her foundation is strong.


She houses all the issues, she replaces their dirty laundry with clean clothes. As she tries forcefully feed them gentle honesty.


The little engine that could, pride and determination pushing her through college.


Someone scream for the wife, she will later become.


A heart filled with aches and stitches.

A nose accustom to uncensored scent of bullshit.

Emotions used for pleasure and ignored through pain.

Still she is enriched with hope, making sure no ill will is accompanying her.


Someone scream for the mother in the sister she’s always provided.


She’s just trying to find her self and profess good examples.

Allow them to recognize that she encounters obstacles daily.

Even through all the stress, she puts time away to listen.


Someone scream for the daughter she is.


This apple has grown beautifully, because of her family tree.

And although it may not fall far from the tree, she rolls and explores the grass engraving her own path.


Someone scream for the friend in her.


She’s building walls, while they’re caring less.

Allow her to acknowledge the ones around her are replacing each brick with trust.

That if she falls off her ladder, she recognizes the ones that catch her, before she falls, and if they miss….

Aid in cleaning her up.


Someone scream for this young lady, because she can’t seem to do it herself.

She has been so busy screaming for everyone else, she lost her voice, and her lost breath….


So scream to comfort her —

on her mission to find herself.



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?



The Proposal

I feel like I’ve been falling, but

I am down on bended knee.


With one hand out for you presenting a heart, and

the other handing you a key.


In my eyes you can see the pain,

behind yours I see purity.


Funny we’ve seemed to trade places, but

you’re one of the few I trust with my real identity.


Like the city I reside, I see your beauty through your faults.

Full of entertainment,

I’ve have become content with this smile you’ve left on my face.


Vibrant emotions.


I’ve been hurt, and

right now I am just kind of going through the motions,



Keeping my heart beats above average, except

Skipping beats.

I find myself skipping to songs in the middle of the street.

Dancing with your voice, music to my ears.



I’m down, on one knee

offering you a fistful of tears.


And I figured you hate to see me cry, but

that is how you’ll know its real.


This key is not cliche,

not to my heart or the heartbreak hotel



Its a key to my city,

lose all contact with me and find me if its real.


On the other hand

this heart I am offering, I’ve sculpted piece by piece.

Each scar a story, and

It may be a bit cold, but its still healing, and

It may be a bold, but I built it to be brave

which made it tough..



If you take these items from my hands,

I place mine together asking you for your trust,

in exchange for my love.



Goodnight Never Goodbye

This is Real.

The hurt in my chest,

the plugged ears,

the consistency of tears.

My cries for some understanding.


Deceit has sent me overboard.

Like a coward my arms could no longer bare the burden of my heart, my mind, and his words.

Regrettably —

I have no life vest.

I fell off and into what I thought was a puddle;

Except the more agony I felt, the more the water swallowed my body.

The most meaningful attribute to life, tasteful but bittersweet.

Every time a thought of you crosses, mini movies of recollections replay,

and the pain in my heart is replenished.

Lost in a sea of  crocodile tears, swollen eyes, a gorged nose, and a heartbroken by life.

Actualize a racing mind.

Time is drowning me in my own emo-ocean.

Much time is given, yet I feel like sailing out my mind.


Fishing with the thoughts of regrets, and Paragliding with reminiscence.

Through a Cold War, actions often kill, but

Love is stronger than death.

Despite love being uncontrollable, no matter how hard death tries it cannot intervene people in love.

Love is stronger than death, although it can’t stop death from happening, no matter how hard death tries it can’t separate people from love.


Death cannot take away memories either.

In the end, love is always stronger.

So you see —

A part of you has grown in me.

Allowing me to  cease the worries, raise up, and stand strong

It’s you and me together like time and eternity

and never afar,

maybe in distance,

but never by heart.

Goodnight I say,

Never a Goodbye.


The Grand Exit

The last time I remember you; I saw your body sideways leaving out the door.

Last night still had my mind in a daze; I’m sitting up this morning in my bed remembering the days you remembered me.

When the nights went into the mornings; it was clear to me that this love was Satan’s miracle.

I loved the hell out of you, now Ive met my pinnacle.

Those lips smiled, those pearly gates parted, and out crept the blues

You missed me didn’t you?”

Feeling like the drum getting played in this solo.

Meaning you were never present for today’s, but I could always count on you for “couldn’t waits”.

Waiting for your call; do you really wonder why I am up so late? I contemplate.

Why must these trees and these lakes of liquor complicate things?

Standing in the shower wishing it’d bring the heat, and rain harder.

That the radio and the water would some how create thunder, and electrify my spirit –

Free Me.

From this being I love to be in me, but cant stand being apart of.

That’s not love. That’s not lust. Was there really never any trust?

This relationship has rusted. Quickly we are sinking.

Me deeply and you wallow in the shallow end.

But I still pretend that we’re just friends, with the benefits of exercising passion.

So as I am laying here watching you walk out;

Like damn Y? X is the reason.

Seasons change. Feelings stay the same, except this time…

I am the one leaving.