I used to pray for water,
Now I thirst for the wine
My father foraged in the mud—
The grapes don't fall from the vine

I want it all.

Everything's that's owed to me.

What goes around,
Comes around

At least that's how it's supposed to be.

I spend my downtime digging holes
that five fifths couldn't fill
Snakes and serpents in my grass don't hisssss
But they ****

Still digging, digging
To find how deep the self-hatred goes
When I finally reach the bottom of the pit,
I'll let you know

But you'll never really know.
Not unless you're down here with me—

And you're not.

It's me verse the world.
I rehearse my curses
And inverse my pearls
I clam up, clamp shut
And let darkness unfurl

so dark, So Dark
But I can still see the stars
I also see that they're all yours
And not ours

I don't see the light nor do I feel the guilt
I hark the barters of midnight
And watch the eyes in the hills;
Geminis cry for more heighth
While my wrists mine for stilts
We pray and prey in the forest
for more, and more, and more mills

But the trees don't fall.

Who knew this would be 22?

2 haunted by the past 2 look forward
They told me I just needed some more,
But I disagree

I sprained my ankle in forest;
I saw the fallen trees
Running from the shadows
'Til I found out they were me

I'm never free.

I'm never me.

There ain't a single **** star that feels me.

Neither do the toucans and hummingbirds,
This picture's worth a hundred words.
My pitcher was a funnel first;

If it was half-empty,
I'd be somersaulting,
shook and stirred

High off life
Instead of hiding my face from the sky,
A little birdie tells me, "it won't be alright."

I change the covers of these books,
'Cause that's as far as you'll look
But I'll write in invisible ink just in case.

Then laugh
about how I've managed to paint and erase
Simultaneously

The only one who I amaze is me.

One-hundred.

Lately,

I've come to grips with the consequence
Of being a deeply closeted optimist;
My outer self is the opposite:


The birds jeer me
For the wind steers me,

Knocks me down with a flick;

At least the flowers are pretty.

I'll die before my momma tells me:

"Man up"

I couldn't bear to split the humble pie,
Now these hopeful waters run me dry
It's so hard just to try

I couldn't bear to share my cross with you
I'm sure you have your crosses too,
And I need one of us to make it

Two's a team,
Three's a crowd,
Me, myself, and I
can't figure out
Who gon' walk the plank
We flip a coin,
It's flyin' off the boat,

We jump after it.