so- what you running from?
nah- those cats on the corner they
"hella" dumb

ok, lets slow down
you not prepared to hit the ground
don't let the beast run its mouth
when I moved west to east town

I used to cry out why
because unlike sunny skies
I could never open my eyes
everyone I know would die

if I opened my mouth
out would come lies

only used to snorting synthetic white
**** faced used to crashin at night
the outspoken type
who's a lost pathetic dreamer
the poetic artistic type, a day dweller

caught in "coffins" in between ya
I'm coughing emphysema
sky scrapers in between
with no one knowing Andre Nickatina

I trace icy window sills with ashy fingertips
surpassed by the New York hustle
but only by minutes

I do this for *** heads
and kids I kicked it with as a teen
and insomniacs who still
raises the lid to catch sleep

and without it?
yeah I'm crazy and you mental too
I rock spiritual without a break to breathe
stop or interval

I'm from the state
where sunshine will never stop
and transferred to the state
which perfected the "rock"
where liberals stand
and conservatives call themselves the man

I don't want to
but I'm willed though
the city's filled with every skin tone

if I ever dream I think
I'll try and let it slip
and let my fingertips
trickle till I catch it

it's like how can I start fresh
if I can't erase
hating everything I seem to create
stray to think different
but my soul is caged
hidden under floorboards
are the ideas I make

but I feel calm and at home
in the darkness
feeling cold and lethargic
but creating art
with my fingertips
alone with the hopes and the gods
I illustrate pain
in slow and graceful strokes

tirelessly knitting an infinity scarf
cooped up in a small room
with my mouth sewn shut
I lyrically piece together scraps of
the thoughts inside my head
to write an unauthorized version
of me instead

working steady without pause
till the ink dries up
words spilling out truths
of my purest disgust

I am the artist whose painting
to begin with was fake
I am the unrooted vine that grew
despite its wilted fate

I closed my eyes to stop the sun
from seeping in
my head spins like the hand
that rides the spiral till it ends

I hope someday to love again
could it be that we're both lost
we need to be found
before we hit the ground

in between the holes
and empty spaces
so there's me and I'm drifting
tryin' to fill in those extra places

it seems so simple
inside the walls I've built
inside my head
exits winding complex and all
the lines can bend

the photo album of our time together
is filled with under exposed prints
and negatives
then I hang them up to dry

tried to stop the endless bleeding
I closed my eyes to stop my heart
from beating
like maybe you would come back to me
if I stopped breathing...

from the look
on you're face
just guessin you've
been addicted to hate.

cause you
didnt understand
the gravity.
the weight.

makin the darkness
a deeper shade
grey matter driftin
through the brain

manifesting deception
sin sampled
with evil its
simple and plain

doesn't matter
how you hold it
twist it, leash it
make it or ignore it

who's gonna be
the bare witness for
every important series
of events you experienced

the come up
is what we live for
and the come down
is when we die

so I try to breathe
try to sleep
try to close my eyes
I simply try to try

so why can't being alive
mirror what I wish
was the perfect high?

he's a dreamer
she's both but definitely more
of a wake walker

certainly a dreamer cause
he flies in his dreams
high above the
cities sky line and ozone

she's got to be wake now
it's day time it's the rising
of her eyes to reflect her
consistent self revolution

it's taken some planning but
she wants to show she isn't useless
that this has all been worth it

yet she might just settle
for becoming a practical artist
in the way she piece
together her own constitution

it's the illusion everyday
that she's falling in love
and has something
she calls her nothing

it is the emptiness for the whole
the mindless doubt of not believing
it is possible we are wrong
with so much
power to be righteous

because it is not a rage toward the 1%
or hatred toward the 99 ...

it really is
so much deeper
than a fraction
of a inproportionate sum ...

when the dragonflies escape
the sensation of being swept up
in kite sailing within and without
riveting curvatures
of wind breaks

there's nothing like catching
the breeze so proposing this
please sweet universe,
I ask of thee

let the dragonflies free.

when the dragonflies escape
you will embrace it
in every fiber of your being
with even

electricity flowing
up to the fingertips

you cannot shake this feeling
like the beating of fragile wings
poise and power
strokes the air so carefully calculated

I hope the both of us make it
to a safer existence where there is
virtue and inner peace then

why can't you
just release them

when we again understood
after such a long time
that we were already
free

already free to
begin with.