Words carry such tender delicacy.
Like the first sheet of ice that coats a puddle in a winter’s hour.
Like a newborn young in the hands of a beast.
Like a surgeon’s fingertips at the end of a scalpel...
They are so precious and so telling of one’s character.
By the way you say them,
The feeling behind them,
The lingering thoughts they leave once said...

The words that boil in my mind scramble once they touch my tongue.
I guess on the sunny side, they’re over easy ‘cause they run.

And they run real ..

Knock knock, delivery
By no means should you make me wait.
I’ve been here before, sir
As this is attempt number eight.

I bring to you a message,
From someone you should know.
It seems to be important,
Expedited in the snow.

The first time, you were sleeping,
And the second, and the third.
I saw when looking through the blinds,
And from the snoring that I heard.

The fourth time, house was vacant,
The fifth and sixth time too.
By the seventh, I didn’t even knock,
I just called right out to you.

But no answer then of course.
You really must not care.
I wish not let this carry on,
Where the neighbors start to stare.

“What is it *******!
I never called for a thing!
Unless it’s whiskey that you’ve got,
Don’t want what you’re offering!”

Oh but sir, this is crucial,
Don’t you shut the door just yet.
Got a message from your past,
And the you you’ve never met.

“You’re pathetic, I don’t know you”
Oh but sir, you truly do.
Before you stands your reflection;
I am the same person as you.

With a word from your past
Saying it’s time to forgive.
And I’m the future you
You’ll never get to know until you live.

There is power in your youth.
With age comes wisdom, but with youth comes awareness.
Sponge-like minds that soak up fluid-like life.
Pouring through time, sightlessly approaching the vapors of vanishment.
But we may abuse their power.
As they mirror those they idolize,
Following, yet creating paths all at once.
Deserving of shepherds and not sheep-
So they can lead the world.
Deserving of bridges and not tunnels-
So they can see it ...

Before you were written, you were read. 
Your cover page screamed beauty,
And your blank pages showed diligence. 
Your eyes gave the genre,
And your smile gave the theme. 
Your wordless diction leaves me wanting more,
And then more of the more that I want. 
You’re a single copy novelette;
May I keep you at my bedside?

Built up from the start.
[Heart]broken in the end.

Free handedly sculpted into a lover, a peacemaker; a living prodigy of you.
The blueprints of my being were crafted by God,
and now you’re his supervising architect.
You made me strong - make me stronger.
You made me wise - make me wiser.
You molded me to have endurance and perseverance, and I want to stay true to that.

Broken sleep, broken thoughts,
and of course a broken heart.
YouWereJustHere.
But I don’t wana break, I want to honor you..
You left us on 10-4;
Gives me nostalgia from your police days.
10-4 like “Okay”. 10-4 like “Understood”.
I really find peace in that.
Cuz it’s your confirmation that you’re okay.
And I’m okay, too.  
10-4, Mom. 10-4.

Does the pigment of my skin define me?
Does it make me less than them?
‘Cause the prejudice love to remind me
I’m a rock and not a gem.

Am I enough ‘cause I speak well?
Or do I have to look it too?
‘Cause God forbid I’m out in public
Wearing red or blue.

Should I turn down my music?
Maybe switch to classic rock?
‘Cause if I don’t,
They’ll maybe think I’m carrying a glock.

But what they don’t know is:
This rock’s the start of a crystal,
And my fully loaded loving heart
Is my only form of pistol.

So I’ll bump my Hip-Hop,
And I’ll rock whatever colors I please,
‘Cause once they get a piece of me,
They’ll learn kindness comes with ease.

I love seeing people.
And I don’t mean the physical sight of them,
But the authenticity of their mind.
Their ethics. Their morals.  
Although, it seems like the physical to me ..
And to see one’s mind work in the physical form,
Is to read it I guess.
Of the many minds I’ve read, I’m left feeling like a sunflower in the dessert usually;
Among scorpions and cacti.
Out Of Place. Different.
But that’s alright.

I know I just belong somewhere else.