I don't want to be down, but my heart is too heavy for my eyes to look up
I don't want to be found, not by others but, I'm hoping I can find myself
and
I don't want to be loud, because the ones that are, they don't often look like us
I don't want to be me, as a child being seen not heard, as a black not seen at all
and
As a man that bleeds, with scars that cry, and scabs that call for help that's not coming
I want to be proud, but of me I can't, I don't know what to be proud of
and
I want to be free, and I have the key to these chains, but these burdens start to feel like hugs
I hope you're praying for me, I hope you're praying for me, lately it doesn't feel like enough
I hope you're praying for me, I hold my hands in the dark, my feeble heart is searching for (what?), can you keep praying for me ?
I pray you're telling the truth, lately it doesn't feel like enough,
I hope you're praying for me
I hold my hands in the dark, my feeble heart is searching for love
Nobody's praying.
Jan 29, 2025
Jan 29, 2025 at 8:54 AM UTC
my hands remember
my hands remember
They remember the strings, lined across the frets
The remember the keys and how the chords connect
The remember the day, the first time I held a cigarette
and yet
today my hands forget...
Oct 19, 2024
Oct 19, 2024 at 12:58 PM UTC
Gunshots go off in the head of a man with a gun in his hand
He pictures an unload of the clip, and a picture of the clothes he was in, only picture to remember him by.
And it's nights like these when he's filled with regret that he thinks of wound drawing blood from his head.
|death|
find solace in his demise
Oct 19, 2024
Oct 19, 2024 at 12:55 PM UTC
Common that we treasure the joys of our possession when they are lost–
thereby we try and savor–reminiscing–the freedoms we used to know, as to the soul, our slaver to fear consumes us whole
when will we turn around?
Oct 19, 2024
Oct 19, 2024 at 12:52 PM UTC
It hurts like a heart held in your hands
how mine rumbles, facing tension it cannot bare
When, not if, it bursts, and gushes tender
I'm left no longer a living man
I cry "gentle," and you squeeze
your nails like fangs, the serpent
from which I ask a relief
holes in my heart that I cannot mend
limp, like the lying antelope as it surrenders
the lion's jaw, thick in the firm of his neck
so, you've cornered me in feelings,
with your kisses as your canines, I–
unwillingly accept
Oct 19, 2024
Oct 19, 2024 at 12:49 PM UTC
Do we value money more than the time it takes to achieve it?
We waste our lives for it?
I waste my life for what?
My priorities for what? Missions, goals, dreams, for what?
I waste life on things I find more interesting than essays about people long put in the dust.
I hunger for highs, good times, but I get lows, work is important but how much–
for certain?–
I do not know.
I draw back from application, while wishing for balance. Instead of working hard I found it easy to survive off of talent.
I want to learn,
yet haven’t grown,
to find the equipoise of work and play. I know what I do instead.
I spend my time lazily, convincing myself at every turn that tomorrow will wait for me,
that I’ll have time
and
enough time to finish everything, and everything well.
Oct 16, 2024
Oct 16, 2024 at 7:21 PM UTC
suspense gathers to danger,
that paladin, not a savior, causing conquerors to fall
seizing a soul, a feather left, ink poured on the table
gorge– the source, the feeder, the demons left appalled
and you flaunt
a flowing wing or so it seems
the past is over
but we’re still remembering
callous ice
hitting harder than igneous stone
but when in Rome–
they **** a brother
for callous crowns and silly thrones–
Sep 19, 2024
Sep 19, 2024 at 2:06 PM UTC
time is reaching out again
and we can’t
no, we can’t
let days go bye
lest our souls forget
the challenges
o the challenges
of our sacrifice.
Sep 14, 2024
Sep 14, 2024 at 11:06 AM UTC
I smile,
but I don’t mean it
I cry,
but you don’t see it
if time
is what’s at stake
our lives
are slowly fleeting
–
you–
swat your hands through the web of our plans
you and I are not connected
we are,
strangers again
–
so what do you believe
are you still innocent to think–
that your lock is still genuine
that it'll work with my key?
Sep 7, 2024
Sep 7, 2024 at 12:58 PM UTC
i can’t court another cover
they’ve all fled from my arms
and abandoned their lover
i loved their souls
what their hearts confined
i thought i knew well
is it something i’ve done–
that they grow wings to withdraw
that they ride the wind away
i still need them so
but their rush to escape
tells me less of the same
former glory not sufficing
may you enjoy the rush of flowing from the lips of another
O stanza lines and book covers
Sep 7, 2024
Sep 7, 2024 at 12:58 PM UTC