People can’t smell their own shit, like they have something up their noses.
They don’t even bother to flush the toilet.
That stench could make this whole place a hazard zone.
Read all about it.
There’s knives in backs, children slain, and money missing out of wallets.
These mask are impeccable,
Who are the cosmetologist?
Quite plastic you are, because you don’t feel a thing.
Your smile is misery’s company.
Am I your pain medicine?
When you’re hurting, you use me, and abuse me.
Leaving me clueless & empty.
Vacant like the lots that surround our inner cities.
In the shadows of the Hollywood lights –
Do the people who don’t have property own the streets, or is this war?
I have the tattoos of a warrior,
Inexperienced perceptions of being ready for the battle,
I fought back.
Revealing contusions deeper than trenches
Thankfully, spirits cannot be paralyzed.
But surely they can be idle.
Fairy tale endings don’t exist in this nightmare.
I told you I’d never leave you, and you abandoned me.
I guess along with depression, vanity is your companion, because
They are the only two things that seem to last in this material world
where wearing aura isn’t fashionable, but
Lady Gaga’s doing something right.
Read all about it
There’s parent-less children, starving countries, corruption in knowledge, and misuse of power!
Why should we pay to go to college if I am the future?
People should learn to invest in tomorrow.
Trying to drink from the fountain of youth,
When did it become so hard to swallow?
You’ve been marinating for some years,
Give thanks for the time borrowed.
Like napkins you can’t give it back, at least not the way you accepted it.
What do all these preconceived beliefs of being immaculate mean?
Days continue to elapse.
I’ve been pregnant with this piece.
I don’t know about you, but I came out the womb screaming!
Hanging by a thread they cut without my permission.
I was covered in blood, they should’ve gave me a few more minutes
Before cutting off my oxygen, my food supply…..most importantly my mother & I’s connection.
So you see, you cant get clean, if you haven’t been dirty.
And just because you’re standing now, doesn’t mean that you are sturdy.
Unless you’re a palm tree?
Deceivingly slim, surprisingly strong.
I use to think the dew on grass were tears from trees, because they were lonely.
Read all about it.
Don’t follow the shadows, they can’t see where they’re headed.
The blind leading the blind is a misconception.
My pen is my weapon,
That only spreads love.
Every stranger could use one.
“Outside it’s dark and dismal.
Inside I feel like summer.”
Your kisses feel like wet cotton.
Your embrace is energizing like hot coffee.
I notice you have this glaze in your eye that could make a donut jealous…
Each moment is memorizing, like a dream that’s never ending.
Existing in this space together; such closeness can be invigorating.
Who knew we could time travel?
Behold the future.
Who knew there could be privacy in honesty?
Trusting you with the a version of myself I have yet to accept.
Who knew beauty could exist in such awkwardness?
Giving me the chance to feel special through the blues.
Talking all that jazz, whispering sweet nothings..
smooth like a 90s R&B single.
They don’t know…
You make me wanna..
Love a little bit harder, hold on tight, so we can get stronger
In the face of right and wrong
Everything is everything, but nothing even matters.
Disown the mis-education of unconditional love.
Still in a room,
A broken mirror reflects flawless smiles of all those that once stared before it.
Gleaming eyes looking for themselves in fragments of light.
I can’t yet see through.
My tears and the street lights create stained glass.
Looking at memories abandoned in pictures, and the pain that is sheltered, buried, and concealed in temples.
Shattered and now broken open.
I pick up the pieces with the roughest edges first.
I cut myself — countless times.
It hurts not to scream!
As a child you are taught that silence is comforting,
Explicitly a fools gold, a dastardly violence.
The blood has been contaminated with secrecy.
Life’s own mystery;
What good is the knowledge of hystori if the truth never gets told?
I see myself in rare form….beautiful….
This bigger picture envisioned is actually a puzzle;
we are each others pieces.
There are no borders, filters, nor frames….
Regardless not everyone fits, still you are..
This Morning I awoke from a Dream, petrified.
I was sitting in a pew, and was whisked away blindfolded.
This Morning I awoke from that Dream, petrified.
I rose from my slumber, exhausted, confused, and intimidated.
Trying to leave my bed, but it has turned into a swamp.
Drenched in emotions and adrenaline, I drown.
This Afternoon I awoke, and gave truth to the meaning :
“Sleep is the cousin of Death”
I took the leap of faith out of my bed, praying that these wooden floors wouldn’t turn to quick sand.
I calm myself.
I make myself breakfast for the first time in weeks,
because my brain was suffering from malnutrition.
Not your cliche Food for thought,
but more like the last taste of food before an execution.
Today I woke up with a foreign feeling.
It seemed as though God was making a Long Distance phone call to me,
and some how it got intercepted and misinterpreted,
I disconnected myself for all communication, and left the phone off the hook.
Figuring if I silence all my problems, these alien feelings will go back to their homeland of seclusion,
and leave me the hell alone.
My dream became real.
This feelings blinded me with the mirror of my reflection, and like a stork,
they carried me in their mouths and delivered me to the doorsteps of my conflict.
The issues that birthed this misguided monstrosity,
looked down on me,
but like a baby I couldn’t comprehend why I have been apprehended from my tranquility,
a place in which I call home.
While present in physicality, yet idle in mind —
The television was no longer poising my mind, but replenishing my conscience.
On this journey to meet the problems that created me,
I discover understanding.
Something so simple as washing the dishes,
gave knowledge that the things most overlooked consume the biggest life lessons.
I stand up and stop kneeling down to these mistakes.
I need to regain balance; as the stork was delivering me back to my dormant mind,
it dropped in me a body of water.
I awoke leaning up against a wall,
drenched in water, I was cleansing myself of low self-esteem.
As I cleansed my self with a black soaped dove, I felt purity again,
as regret stormed down the drain.
The towel, like my love ones soaked up any disbelief of their love for me.
I am clean.
The sun is my kiss goodnight.
The birds are my lullaby.
I thought I shut all doors and windows,
but stealthier than the I air breathe,
Insomnia crept up on me and suffocated my pillow with my thoughts.
Wrapped with a blanket of restlessness,
The birds continually ease my soul in to slumber,
and as I fade, the Sun gently kisses my forehead,
My deprivation tucks me in, and I sleep…like a baby,
Until a couple of hours pass, and I wake up again
I look out the window, and the Sun has been screaming —
I am trying to restore the balance in my life; however right now,
Sleep is not Kin to me; therefore, we’ve become unfamiliar faces.
I just wish these thought clouds of anticipation would precipitate patience.
I cannot just sit around under this umbrella, and wait for dreams to come true.
I will reacquaint myself with sleep,
extract love from my dreams,
and deliver myself success
Because the truth is, it doesn’t really matter who I used to be.
Its all about who Ive become.
Next time I will be sure to put my phone on vibrate.
Heavy is the head that falls. Sharp are the words that severed it, with memories still embedded. If its one thing we have in common, death we’ll never forget. Who’s next on the chopping block? When that question’s asked, that is when all the chatter stops. People apply fear like sun block; I apply fear as motivation. I cried the river, built the bridge, and I’d be damned if I couldn’t get over it.
Failures always an option when winning is. Even Jesus wasn’t born with faithful witnesses. They can doubt me all they want, but the big picture being talk about is the one I’m painting. Others are finger painting, finger licking, sharing meals with snakes and shaking hands with misanthropes.
I’m a revolutionary whose evolutions wont be cast on reality television. Through my words I tell my visions. Through my vision I see my disposition.
Gone with the wind as my spirits gets lifted. I see they’re trying to shift their point of view in front of me. Their parents weren’t glass makers, still I see translucence. More fickle than straw, please don’t “Hey” me, that’s for horses.
Instead – Namaste, peace be with you and the all positive forces. Red carpet star wars. Battlefields; souls cemented in Hollywood floors. Who can act the realest for our entertainment?
They are tamed with brains washed. I am watching National Geographic studying my roar and picking my main. They said the end is upon us, it’s probably just a commercial break. Remember when the world ended in Y2K?
The computers did turn majority into slaves. Plastering faces on cyber books, with cyber crooks, and peeping cyber toms who created my space just to follow me, laugh when I take a tumblr or two, and then instagram my face.
I decided to take another approach and have people follow me to press my words for the exposure of truth