So many words. Not enough paper in this world. Don't hurt the trees over me.

Posts tagged ‘life lessons’


So this what it sounds like… the doves are done crying. In fact, they’ve met death. I guess they’re un-flying.

Plummeting from sky and… jumping upside down, to reach ground, and say goodnight, friend. Thunder, please save my lighting.

Please save my love and life friend. The best I know, she is! The best I know we’ve been. It’s just we have our problems.

I break down and cry, she does too. How can we solve them? Is there really a problem or do we fear and start them?

Sometimes it’s just the mental. We fail in there we hit through… the glass basement where facing off is our worse decision.

It could be worse, but given… our past and prior yearning, our last, our higher learning, I think we have to earn it.

You be my armor I swear to karma, I’ll be yours.


Power of Words

Don’t overestimate the power of your words, young lady. You deserve the world, don’t settle for the sewer.

Don’t settle for the 2 or 3, shoot for 15 on a scale of 10 and land on 12 because truthfully…

You earned your respect, but he fails to give you what’s yours. So take your heart back, don’t let him talk you out, don’t start that.

Let this be your epiphany. Emotions, sure they start acting. You got the bags, so order them to start packing.

Defeat mentally, the order of a small fry, who thinks small thoughts and beats you down until fall, cry…

and get attacked by your asthma. But then he’s all guy, all of sudden, like all he did was just nothing.

Don’t waste the time to try to swing back. War, you could bring that. One word, bye, and walk it out but if he brings back..

the same one two punch, he fed to you too much, slice the fuckers balls off and let him chew them slowly.

I’m sorry for the negative. I don’t condone a man hitting a woman. So please don’t be surprised, like you don’t know me.

In The Line of Fire

Seems I’m mistaken, when I’m told to just relax is when I need to be on my toes. I need to follow my nose.

Smell the difference in a truth and lies to pacify behind the lines of what I know and what I’m shown, ’cause there’s a difference.

Don’t tell me just to listen. Don’t tell me it’s so plain to see. Behind these eyes lies a fire soul. Please, don’t play with me.

Please, don’t lay with me in hopes of someting different when the difference is I’m far from not caring. Shit, I’m livid.

Depicted vividly, shots that I took with sympathy. But simply it’s a matter of opinion versus fact.

And this is tat for tit, hit or miss, I’m bound to hit something soon. Violent as my inner child, things I should have seen sooner.

So now with my firearm, my words, my deadly weapon. I stand in the line of fire. Me to you, who’s best then?

Lone Hate

To make hate a technique for coping with vulnerability, is to make a mistake with a blade in a room of enemies.

So you become yourself and them too within this room of nightmares. But right here you end it all. You kill them by killing you.

Or that part you hate. Is it really that hard? You use it for your armor, are you proud of that guard?

Anyone who comes close you stand clear without ’em. You stand alone. You die alone. Now show them how you’re ’bout it.

Show them how you’ve learned to hate when love makes them doubt it. Show them how you’d love to make believers of these doubters.

Revel in their chants, “You can’t make it here without us!” Let them see your tears don’t exist to hit these flowers.

So when they tell you love, you continue just to hate. When they hit the gateway to your heart, let them wait.

Prove it to me! Let me see! Show me something different! If not, then I ask you, what the fucks the point of living?!

Make Me Stop

Emotionally, I’m wreck in a sense that, my insecurities, they eat me alive easily.

I watch myself in the mirror and hold back tears knowing damn well my sleeves spell out my vast fears.

My last hairs stand at 90 degrees. I feel I’m dying from the inside. Inspire me, please!

Show me there’s more to this road than just reaching the end and just leaving my breath to live without me.

If it wasn’t for the moves I made, could I doubt me? Would it really hurt them to go on the road without me?

Would it be better if I never made this about me? Perhaps, I’m the reason everything collapses so quick.

So sick of being the victim. Just kill me. Hope reincarnation will spare me the same feeling.

I want to destroy. I want you to watch. Heart as a target. Please God, help me to stop!

I Doubt It

Sometimes I feel… like the things I aspire to be are out of my reach and…

since the class tells me to “be real” I fail to see them.

But I still hear the words in my head when I go sleep and…

hit my pillow when I wake up from bad dreaming.

Guess I’m weak as they want me to be. Weapon concealing…

see the fire within my eyes but can they feel it?

I want you to burn every time I touch this ceiling.

Now tell me it’s made from glass when I break this bitch in..

and it shatters down with gravity to your iris.

Can you see me now? I doubt it. Like I felt when me, you doubted.

My Inspiration

I just want to take this post to dedicate it to the person who single handedly inspired me to write once again, the babe, Crystal.

I’ve been writing for years now, and as time went by I think I have gotten progressively better. However, bad past relationships pretty much robbed me dry of happiness and the emotion it actually takes for me to write successfully. I was at the point where I decided to leave poetry alone because everything was so empty. Nothing had substance at all. I could rap bars of the most insignificant garbage, but that’s not what I enjoy. That’s not where my heart is.

Then she came along. I met her in class at John Jay College of Criminal Justice. She sat two seats over from me and I would constantly stare at her in admiration, acting like I was looking out the window whenever she looked in my direction. The smoothest opening line known to man left my mouth,

This class starts at 3:35 right?

Ingenious! Yet, here we are today.

Over the past 5 months of our relationship we’ve had our ups and downs all over. We fight harder for each other than I see some couples fight who have been together for years. Notice I said fight for, not fight against! Trust me, we fight each other as well, we’re not perfect, but we definitely put in the most work on fighting side by side, not face to face.

Through it all, I’ve rediscovered who I used to be. She gives me this feeling that I haven’t had for years. That feeling that everyone says you never feel again after your first love. I testify, they were wrong.

She gave me a new lease on life emotionally and I’m forever thankful. There’s so much more I could type here, but if you follow my poetry, you’ll get the picture deep enough.

This post, I dedicate to you baby. For everything you’ve done. From talking, to listening, to putting me back where I need to be when I veer off course. For doing in this relationship what some people don’t do for the people they’ve been married to for years.

Thank you baby. I love you with all my heart. Head to toe. Inside and out.

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