Sitting at the turntables,
The sound is the interchangeable,
The volume stirs,
The lyrics become blurry lines,
The channeling of the headphones and speakers,
It’ll be my last dose of the day and night.

The beat is still there,
The 808 rhythms,
My hips begin to move,
My arms begin to raise ,
Alone… I feel my personal rhythm vibrate.
With each and every gaze of the mirror I hate,
I begin to lose myself and encounter the serum of intimacy.

The 808’s come again,
Sucker punching my soul to match the tone,
Ough! My thoughts are deep beneath my bones,
Step by step I feel it coming,
The electrostatic symphony in my soul,
Surging through my breast,
A speaker wave travels through my fingertips.
This language becomes a buzz,
Sweat drips from my hair onto the crystal floor,
I swirl to the turntables and raise the volumes some more,
The 808’s are hitting me harder than then ever before.
I was always told I could kick it to the baseline,
With a body so aroused I feel the momentum making me numb,
Another step and I climaxed at the 808’s mixture,
Another round at the turntables and I hear the 808’s final whispers.

Here it comes,
The passage of decision,
And miscreation’s.

Pacing back and forth in my mind,
I knew the lightning I saw wouldn’t strike,
Not twice in the same position,
The strength of my gravity and actions,
My struggles defining my oppositions.

Deliver us from evil… in God we believe in,
Still pacing in my mind,
I can’t possibly receive this,
The counter arguments to my achievements,
The blessings and miracles expressing,
Expressing the hysterically critical and cynical,
Deceptional thoughts being my downfall,
Watch this lightning hit me and be the uprising to my greater efforts and timing,

This Divine hysteria is my personal malaria,
This disease that consumed me and the thoughts in my mind,
The kind thoughts I cherished,
They just perished.

Still pacing I feel my heart racing,
The suicidal angels need to learn patience,
With all this hate being the usual state,
Religious solutions needs to make haste,
Recreational activities only serving purpose is to remind us of disabilities,

Painful mirrors revealing the beast in me,
Can’t stand the feeling of all this energy,
Mind keeps pacing to the point of seizure,
Where I discovered my new enemy.

Me, myself and I,
To be Divine we must divide,
Unite under a different name,
Under a different shape,
Deprived of being ashamed,
To be Divine  my mind needs to stop,
Stop being black and white,
And finally show me my true Divine fate.

Sitting always in the light I’ve grown tired,
I’ve given up the happy façade,
Slow strides and dead eyes,
I live life as a pass time,
Surrounded by demons at night,
Nightmares and rage written about life between death.

Before I approach you, I put on my mask,
Facing away from you I hide my past,
A mask so realistic you would touch and not question,
I fear one day you’d touch too hard and feel its weight,
Why its so heavy and repulsive yet you haven’t noticed,
Maybe you will soon by fate.

When my mind wonders and I start to feel,
The mask falls off and I’m scared to be seen,
I cover my face and run into the dark,
I put back on the mask but the demon smacks me aback,
Searching for my possession in the dark I search,
I search before you can find me,
I feel something similar to my face and I lift it,
Its very heavy and sloppy saying,” put me down”,
With my eyes adjusted I see a head decaying within a sheet,
I’d have to bury it… I carry the body and run full speed,
The body begins to scream and I see someone in front of me.
I then crash into a mirror head first and I collapse with its shatter,
I look at the screaming body… I struggle to mount and smother it,
Fearful and disgusted I feel close to suffocating the abomination,
I’ve forgotten how familiar his face felt,
But not before a barrel touches my chest and a sudden motion forces a switch of positions,
Loud bangs and flashes fill the room and his frowning mask is revealed,
It was revealed already sprinkled with dark red liquid,
I slide my hand across his mask as he laughs.

After the 5th bullet,
He pulls my lost mask out and fits it on,
He laughs under a frowning mask and I cry under one of laughter,
Heavily smearing my blood across his frown …he laughs louder,
He empties the clip of his gun and stares at me in the dark,
Again with a swift motion I am lifted and he head butts me,
Both of our dramatic faces collide… breaking and shattering.

Bleeding upon the floor I choke on blood hosing through my mouth,
Sliding my hands across the surface I cut myself trying to find something,
The broken pieces of my mask that complete me… I find the biggest and slip it on.
Hearing laughter I crawl into the light and feel ashamed,
Dragged back from the light I feel no pain,
This monster will devour me along with my sanctified hate.

I can’t allow myself to die when this façade wants to survive,
Still alive I’m starting to realize I was painted as the antagonist,
I’d cry for help but this is deeper than even fate,
I cannot escape such a fall… I would be delusional to think I wouldn’t die here,
I cannot be saved today… a Façade in the hours of the finest death,
The dying light traps what can never be changed but will always remain as my regrets,
My past times crumble upon my face and my memories burn in the heat of the light,
Feeling hopeless I know I simply can’t escape.
The happiness I faked in my false gestures were the causes,
The cause of pleasure and disaster of great measure,
The dark has become venomous to my eyes as has the light,
Crimson is all I can see and all I feel,
My dyed rotten mask sits upon my expression,
The happiness I tried to mimic and replace ended me,
The man who laughs heavily is the actual symbol of hope, trust and forgiveness,
As he stops laughing and kneels beside me… all I would hear is silence and silence is all I wanted,
My story is written between the pages of books about life and death,
My façade…façade… façade…. I sleep away with the contributions I’ve made.

When she was born she was my world.
My daughter Chloe always glowed,
With her around time always slowed,
After 5 years of marriage my wife passed away,
Chloe was born and I had little left,
No pity…no sorrow can fill my feeling of the hollows.
Every night I howl at the moon,
Baby Chloe clanged to my chest to keep my comfort,
The strong alpha weakened by the past.

Chloe grew as time went on,
When she was five I bumped into things more often,
Unaware and oblivious of their non-living nature I’d say excuse me,
Humble and edgy I’d tilt my head to watch my daughter smile and amuse me.

At ten she had reminded me so much of her mother and so came the lost of half my sight.
I could no longer see light with one eye,
I didn’t tell chloe and she never asked,
I’d always tell her stories of her brave mother and her strong dad,
The thing is angels with broken wings can no longer take off.

On May 5th…I woke up.
I could only spot darkness and my eyes wouldn’t adjust,
I thought my eyes had to have been closed and getting them open was a must,
Today was Chloe’s 15th birthday … I can’t go blind today.

When I felt the sunlight I began to tear,
The whole time I sat up… I had felt someone in the room very near,
I teared right before they began to sob,
I heard Chloe’s hurt voice say “did you forget? Daddy?”,
Silent I had hoped my tears stopped,
Sickened….I had hoped.
Chloe hugged me and for the following 5 decades I had hoped to see her face before my time came to an end.
“My baby…Chloe…I tell you this now but since then…I knew I wouldn’t ever live to SEE another day.”

May 5th, 2050…..Chloe’s father passes away.

Pillowtalk

Unraveling my mentality i stick to a thought and feel a motive,
Feeling in my throat...i speak with conviction,
Tough to swallow,Too thick to be shallow i think and speak to hear my tune,
Slow lip movement to accompany the steady feelings of love in the rain drops.

I speak with no emotion but i think of my evoked preferences,
At times i’m guilty of what i said and i lay beside the pillow in my bed,
My speakers are turnt up to drown my thoughts before i fall asleep,
My phone stays on vibrate as the sound of communication is too much,
I don’t want to speak, i don’t want to think and i don’t want to feel.

In the mornings it’s been hard getting out of bed,
My bed is warm but my pillow is wet from the sweat made by my nightmares,
Sunlight dangles instead of the curtains and the glass of water from midnight condensed,
Just like the in the past when the great depression occurred...i survived to make it here,
A new anti-climatic chapter in feeling regret but patient in my future,
Nothing really ends in my mind,
Infinite loops and passions just sit within me,
Lazy realizations are factored within these. These?
These revelation and emphasis on mental instability,
Strange as it sounds I'm ok today.

Last night... it rained last night,
The air was cool but not quite right,
My speaker made a low hum I tried to imitate,
I tried to comfort myself from the chills I felt.

I looked at my phone and mouthed the words I saw,
I was upset so I played my playlist called pillowtalk,
The speaker began to speak again,
This time I drowned in my own thoughts.
I fell asleep but I didn't wake up again...like ever,
Though this is true I was always ‘woke’ in the memories I spoke.

A lot of my questions go unanswered,
The request of leniency is dangerous,
Risky at my own circumstance.
I dig inside my bullet holes but stay…. Quiet
Upset at the pain I can’t accept,
I give up my eyes…. dizzy from strains.

Saddened mistakes you begin to realize you always were,
Quiet you stay to avoid disrespect,
Proper to not be a threat,
Rebellious in attitude and in the end, you’re an enemy.

An enemy to yourself and to others,
You try so hard to be heard,
Painted in different colors and different abstracts,
Everyone is colorblind deaf and clueless of your contributions and desires,
I wanted something so common,
I lost something and someone so rare to not obtain it,
But I still stay quiet for you,
To not offend you…. I’ve died for you,
You still want so much more,
All alone I stay quiet.
Why should I speak when I’m more noticed rotting in sleep?

You’d rather attack me than to understand me,
I seem unappreciative,
I seem emotional but lazy,
When I’m mostly quiet,
What if I get too old?
Waiting too long to resolve my thought impediments.
One of us can be gone tomorrow without a word from my lips.
Still though I’d be too loud so today I stay quiet.

My heart speaks beats louder than my words would ever sound,
It still doesn’t learn from the hurt,
Cavities in my teeth from sweet sentiments,
Cavities in my life where you weren’t present,
Surreal events in my mind that make me stay jealous,
All this frustration and I sit in silence,
I still feel this way but I still stay quiet.

The Temoignage

At the end of the dream, I am kissed by the sun,
The shivers of hesitation course through my body and my pupils roam not around the room,
My pupils roam for a purpose to kiss the sun back and awaken from Saturdays recovery,
In another moment I dress as comfortably as possible and stare into the mirror,
I search the eyes of someone I do not recognize,
Someone I cannot recognize because though they are me but they believe in something,
Something I cannot touch, see or hear therefore it must be evil.

Slow but steady I traverse the sidewalk towards “salvation”,
I fear that when I arrive at my destination my resentment would be noticed,
Though it  is a place of worship I want to feel only the presence of people rather than God,
The entity they all believe will one day return but has always been present.

Sickened I walk with a dizzying mind, A confused heart, and a distressed voice,
My tongue is locked in place as I am greeted with kindness,
My ears and body resonates with the gospel and the powers of belief,
I sway and I waver in my anti-Christianity but remain distant and unwilling,
Unwilling to give me to the entity,
Driven by loss, hate, and abandonment I seek only love from someone real,
Someone who can touch, laugh, and speak by my side,
Someone who is a friend and a finite source of love.

Amidst the lecture, I wonder if the entity laughs and breathes as he has “made” me,
Dizzying even further the pastor questions our devotion and feeds us interpretations,
I waver more or less and decide to zone into another atmosphere,
My focus is inevitably drawn by the chandelier that lingers and sways above,
With each glance and glare, the light brightens and warns my already blind eyes,
I shoot my eyes back down to the lips of the speaker and aim my pupils around the room,
Once again I’m in search of something very unclear but near something unknown to me,
The situation is similar to trying to find a flashlight in a dark room with something else present.

After each scan I sense something bubbling and become fearful,
I escape to the bathroom and try to turn on the water but the faucet fails me,
I look up to the mirror to see red eyes failing to hold back worry,
Just yesterday my friends and I were becoming inebriated  in attempts to touch you,
I came ever so close but lost consciousness,
A feeling of doubt and disappointment lingers even today and I wonder how much I can take.

Coming back into the audience a face appears along with a voice and a body,
My body now is in a state of shock,
My feet weigh down,
My breath escapes but doesn’t return,
My eyes shake and notice the ground moving closer,
The person catches me in her arms and asks me how I’ve been,
The question and the nickname together gave only the most miserable of people a smile,
Tears drench her shoulder as I am unable to hold my head,
I look at my grandmother with such hurt and pain to answer her kind question,
I tell her “he’s questioning my faith again”...


I awake in a room with a sun kissing my face…
I then wonder with tears in my eyes…
If I should kiss back...