Allow me to care for you with my actions,

and befriend you with my words

Make you my muse upon this paper,

write you into my world

Envious girls and even God himself would be jealous of our makings,

A creation of tall tales embraced in agony,

I mean to only ease your pain

Sadistic thoughts and hateful words,

I push to only pull... your smile frightens me

It is your eyes, those eyes,

That spies into my soul, and beckons my heart...

To yearn for you for an eternity

But with admiration comes doubts,

Flaws that boxes me in, to keep you out

There is more to the markings on my sleeve,

Night terrors that exposes my grief

I am a slave to my memories, and what they become

Chains restrict my path to be unfold....

unfinished business

"This is really one of my dumbest flows ever I havn’t slept in days

And me and my latest girl agreed to go our seperate ways So i’m single...

Thinking about what we had and missing you

But I aint santa, I got something for these bad b*tches too" -DraKE

I've never been one for fairytales, but sweetheart, our ending cant be nothing more than destiny's typo;

Mistakes written in between bedsheets, our addiction keeps our hearts begging for more;

but you see, with each hit, each lift, im left feeling death in between my thighs;

Like a mother baron the outcome is me stricken and gasping for life;

You might just be the death of me, souls consumed into what...love? lust?

Back and forth, a simple game of cat and mouse has turned into the survival of the heart;

leave me be so I can perish alone, no heroes in this fable for i have fell in love with the vixon;

Like the seductress she is her words never fall short, and her touch continues to string me along;

A love spell finally in effect, im affected by the times spent, and the constant nights of her head on my pillow;

so riddle me this...

What happens when the pages have ran dry because this poet refuses to write anymore

refuses to cry anymore

What happens when my pen resents my scriptures of you, for i have bled too many times from my paper thin heart

As deadly as the blade that once caressed my skin,your double edged swords have re structured my whole being;

So this is how it goes, always the same

I'll walk, even if you leave, bc deny it or not your wrist will always be tied to mine

But by time the distance hits you time would have already put a block on your memory

Faded away like the lines underneath my nostrils,

you have surpassed even my strongest addictions, becoming a mere sin to be washed away

And this is why I never really believed in fairytales, bc once the high comes down and reality kicks in

Happy ever after was a dream invested, and time wasted... with you

R.I.P (9-8-09)

Facebook | freewrite

Facebook freewrite: "reflecting on the images ive instilled into my life, these portraits are nothing but tears withdrawn;
ive held my heart so close to my chest it can hardly breathe;
and as i gasp for air, itz your picture that drains my mind
fragile...as i cant stand to speak, knees weak i fall to your feet
regretting not the times weve shared, but the lost of moments;
i contemplate your very move, hoping it will bring you closer to me
so plz accept my apology, for i am truly sorry
and though i whisper these words, sometimes saying nothing at all;
i pray that within you, you can feel my missing lifeline;
hearts no longer in conjunction, i fight for a reason to still love...anyone else that is;
bc as you have thought me to grow, only time will tell if i have thought you anything too (9.9.09)"

unfinished business

She never responded, so I figured she stopped caring,
Paper trails of unfinished work,my heart died to have her pen tip caress my soul/
My eyes feined for her words, what was once about me,
But even for a poet in distress, a broken heart couldnt release me/
Scholars have written about this, and songs have repeated my struggles
But no bridge, no rhyme, could help the tears out of my eyes/
Poetry w/o any substance, my stanzas lacked her lyrical attachments,
And as my pages ran close to empty, my chapters faded w/o her touch/
But who am I to force an artist where her pallet has ran dry?
Bc though my passion has never dimmed,
whats a purpose w/o its life?
What is living w/o any ambition?
Love doesnt stand on it own...

to be continued.

inspiration was her gift

I've been inspired; touched by someone elses words

I couldnt help but embrace myself

Finger popping and candy kisses,

her poetry had me wet and laid in between her pages

Strung out, too weak to even talk,

I mumbled her emotions that I wish I can display

Imitation be a form of flattery, and her thoughts have consumed me

So then I write,

write of a girl who loved so hard her soul felt incomplete

A girl who constant reaches got slapped away by deception, lies, time...

A girl who got everything she ever wanted,

except for a love who didnt want her.... Need her

A girl who's eyes I lay on everyday, and wish, oh do I wish

her words would become true.....of me

what ive realized

So i've gone through a lot of changes lately, mentally, and emotionally. I've also undergone some serious self re- evaluating, of myself and of my friends. You know... itz always the ones that say they'd always be there, that sooner more than later disappoint you. But in this process, i've discovered my heart, and whether or not what i'm feeling is true, i'll eventually know. See there's this girl, a close friend of mine, a sister to me, and she has captured my heart. It took some time but she's finally wearing me down, its the way she cares, the way she speaks, the thoughts in her head, both said and un said. She is like something i've never seen before, beauty in every aspect... I Love Her.

Monster

I am a monster, like the man who failed to raise me;
trauma has implemented more into my soul than i am ready to confront
Childhood dreams, faded bc reality turned into nightmares;
i sweat when I'm asleep, bc I'm sweeped over by these things,
images that plague me... yea, I am afraid
It is not demons nor killers, but I am my own greatest enemy;
held by the neck of my own hands, squeeze the way he's thrust, soak up what he failed to bust;
Grow into the seed from daddy's nut, yea sure daddy was nuts,
and so faith has punished me to become
Did he mean to hit her, yes....no? but did i mean?
Maybe it was the blunt softly pressed to my lips that took my memory away;
Have I forgotten to love her, did I love her in the first place?
Maybe the white lines created new lines;
and in between love was tainted, vision blurry from my high