I call your phone
but you don’t answer
Your out there
dancing in the dark.
And some point in between
Drinking and
playing make believe
I make peace with it all
We’re not kids anymore
We can’t get away with bad words
They stick around
And they sting and sometimes
Make you want to rip out your heart
I left a voicemail once
Silent as the stars above
You didn’t respond anyway
I laugh at it now
When I’m feeling down
It makes me feel better
That it makes no sense
Just something I let
stain the walls of my head
Like a pacing tiger in a cage
I lay in my bed
the ceiling a stage
For the memory of what could have been
No missed calls
Not ever
not even once
The dial tone puts me to sleep
A lullaby of static brings peace
Just one more try before I go to sleep
I’m a glutton for punishment
A problematic trait
That describes me

You’re always welcomed to ask questions, but the answer?
I don’t think so.
You’re always welcomed  to get angry or frustrated,
but my response?
Is my own.
You’re always welcomed to have an opinion,
but to be shared
It can’t be assumed.
You’re always welcomed  to leave,
but to be chased
isn’t the truth.

Well the bar closes early on Mondays and they want us to leave.
So we stumble out into the night our hearts on our sleeves.
Partners in crime, we rob each other’s hearts.
But like each other’s Robin Hood,  we replace what was hurt.
And bury each other’s sadness deep in the dirt.

You can have my heart if you wanted.
I’d rip it out and happily hand it to you.
You can have my soul if you wanted.
I’d happily die, then live on without you.

The street lights are blinking, as we dance in the street.
No longer the villains of our own story.
We kiss under the street light
Your lips are a treat
A reward for this hell on earth.
I ponder what this life was before you.

You can have my heart if you wanted.
I’d rip it out and happily hand it to you.
You can have my soul if you wanted.
I’d happily die then live on without you.

Your laughing at your own jokes again.
The ride home is your stage, your the audience and comedian.
And I’m just in awe that your coming home with me.
Some say true love doesn’t exist.
But they haven’t bared witness to this.

You can have my heart if you wanted.
I’d rip it out and happily hand it to you.
You can have my soul if you wanted.
I’d happily die, then live on without you.

A click away from banishment
A dystopian reality
Handcuffed to this roller coaster
I wish this was a dream
Plugged into this digital universe
Addicted to the screen
When I want people to know I’m angry
I tweet the angry emoji
High on notifications
Staying away from reality
Hiding behind a screen name
I Am God243

Flatlining on an incline
A car rolling, in a car crash
Rain pouring, storm overhead
This stories not my own
I am not the one to whom this pain belongs

It’s a sick joke
And this time I’m not the punchline
I’m just here
Flatlining on an incline

I’m alive but I feel dead inside
Like a ghost walking from room to room
I wonder if it’s to soon to assume
That anyone misses me

And just like that
I awake from a dream
Flatlining on an incline
In a hospital bed In New Jersey

Dribble, Dribble, Dribble
The child bounces his ball, as the blacktop sizzles
The air choking from the heat, as the child's Nike's dance in the street
The sky a perfect blue, mixed with some clouds, maybe one or two
Dribble, Dribble, Dribble
The child is bound to the block
Made a promise to his mother to stay on the sidewalk
But promises are sometime broken
Dribble, Dribble, Dribble
From East to West
The child curiosity may have gotten the best
Out from his mothers watchful gaze, he is put to the test
Dribble, Dribble, Dribble
A shopkeeper watches the child go by
Reminds him of his son
Especially his smile.
Dribble, Dribble, Dribble
Past the child's middle school crush
Pink bow in her hair, matches her blush
Passes the ball through his legs, a teenage lush.
Dribble, Dribble, Dribble
One foot off the sidewalk, a tire screeches and swivels
Dribble, Dribble, Drop
The ball puttered to a slow stop

When your English teacher said you could write they lied.
When they said your work was far beyond those in your class, they meant similar.
All those sleepless nights just to write the perfect sentence, only for them not to acknowledge your plights.
When you wanted great you got good.
When you wanted to excel you floundered below.
To bask in their gaze of approval was your dream.
A nightmare of disapproval was your reality.
In the back of the class you wrote till your fingers went numb.
Juggling words for your poetic symphony circus.
All to be told it wasn't enough.
But you, you had earned this.
This grit and that tough.
A words man found like a diamond in the rough.
In the trenches of your English class.
Your Teacher was lying when they said you weren't good enough.