Slow and steady wins the race
so please be patient with my heart,
I'm back to notebooks filled up past
the brim with simple love poems
and an empty bed to preach them to,
She has done and filled me up,
Put light back in my smile and
remembered that blue is my favorite color.
So even with hearts beating fast
playing kickball inside my ribcage,
I will walk slow, remember that
slow and steady will win the race,
So hold my heart, and teach it patience

The brook keeps babbling away,
Telling the stones to hold their tongues,
The water to slow down for a bit,
For these days are long
and the nights feel ever so empty,
Daisies have craned their necks over the sides
Hoping to befriend whatever breathes below,
And the brook babbles away,
Telling all the secrets that sailed its spine,
As they pass by the banks
And wave goodbye to those still standing

Everything from this afternoon
1. I do believe that moths are just distracted butterflies
2. Butterflies may also be distracted but in a way others find acceptable
3. Have you ever wondered why stop signs are red?
4. Between all these thoughts, your face and name remain somewhere infused in them.
5. There are so many waves in an ocean, some that swell and break. One day, I hope to count them all.
6. My father taught me always to listen to understand, not to reply.
7. These eyes float full and heavy, I Pray the rain holds off just a little while longer. Enough to embrace you one last time.
8. I wrote this list, everything that was worth writing down. I've been trying to give it to you with hope that you will read it sometime.
9. If you're reading this I hope you see it was never really a list, just trying to tiptoe around the fear of losing you. Honestly, it is the only thing on my mind.

Baltimore is bleeding,
Boys in blue blind to faces,
War being raged over races,
Can't tell what this place is,
Blocks where I spent my sundays,
******* with police and gunplay,
Hood up to conceal my color,
Complexion passed down to me from mother,
Hard to find peace when the avenues erupting
Nothing seems to matter when you're fighting for something,
So please pray for this forest of concrete and lamp light,
Scared for the events that are coming after midnight