Often people ask me
What it is I do
Poet of the times
Purveyor of the truth

Peeling back the onion skin
Carving at the rhyme
Pouring drinks of imagery
Squeezing out the line

Taking out the sickle
Knocking down the weeds
Till I uncover the beauty of
Hidden treasures underneath

Often people ask me
What it is I see
In the ink of illusion
Known as poetry

I say the line of work I'm in
Suits this poet fine
Where so often I catch myself
Working overtime

His laying there lying,
His crying  while lying
His lying is turning us into crying crimes,
Eyes shades blind from all this fake crying,
Laying there,lying while crying,
Probably because he knows his dying.

Eyes a bitter shade of red
Breaths coming in quick and heavy
Throat pains because of our yelling
Emotions drained from this Fights

Logic crying out for someone to cool off
Though some things  shifted now
The staring contest has began
A **** match that involves eyes now

Eyes drifting lower
Foreplay with the touch of our eyes.
Angers metamorphosis to lust.
It begins with you moving towards me
Me pinned up against this wall
Our bodies talking loud
Taking us to a place
So intense it's beyond bliss
Where we don't come out of for a long time.

Now we lay here in these sheets
Cuddling,head on your chest
Repeating our mantra  
Our bodies share a language
This is how we loss pieces of our hearts to each other.

This is how we keep coming back for more.
One smart-*** mouth to the other,
Knowing this is a journey towards bliss

A chip, a chance
Same deck of cards
Bet.
All in with a poker face
I saw through you
Now you lost me
You didn’t even have me at all
You got it all twisted from the start
Thinking I’d fall for your game
Pulling the same exact card on everyone
But I’m not just anyone—
I’m someone—
Who couldn’t and wouldn’t be played the Joker.
I’m a Queen waiting for my King.