& then i let the music take control of me
I let him control of me.  he was my writer and I was his poetry
I was his rider and he was always driving, I let my heart think for me
I'm naiive, I close my eyes and let my heart see for me
I see you.

See I know. love is always wanted.
rarely given, but always made.
but you don't need it.
You a ****,
You let hoes hold your relationships back like leashes do
And ya homies the same counselors in ****** up relationships or they single

Sellin false images.
you counterfit.
& it's not my fault if the shoe fits,
not my fault that i'm preaching in general and you sittin,
thinking... "****, i do this"
I'm just throwing it out there, & when it lands, I can't help if you get hit
I'm just tryna educate, but the price to pay is knowledge
and that's too expensive
so most of yall won't buy it
you'on need love?
maybe you just can't find it

A shawty that's
down with the lectures when you need to talk
and the shade when it gets hotter
She'll add the seeds to ya garden, then money showers for water

What are your weaknesses? What are her strengths.  Are you..strong enough to be the sand and allow her to be the open hand...you, seep through, can you trust her? can she see you.  you see a woman is someone strong enough to bare the adolescents that men carry, crafting all the material


See, love is like a dream fixed in hell
you've got to take your time and exhale before you
excel your highest peak
gotta hope she real enough to hand you her soul
like "here baby take peek"

open up this box of secrets, and you'll see how a rock forms into a diamond when compressed under the toughest terrain, cause unlike this diamond, your thinkin like a pebble... like the hard of the floor, put your heart heart on the floor and kneel before a queen,  your faith
Love. Love is sometimes idolized but, idle eyes will blink past  the lightning in it's strike but
I get it, you young
yeah i get it, cause that love **** ain't always sweet
and love ain't minute maid

no matter how many lemons life gives you,
you ain't goin far if you can't learn to make lemonade.

Tick Tick Tick.
3am.
3am. see. that's when the
clock broke and I broke down
Put my pride aside and
decided I'd take ink to my crumpled up heart
to write you a letter
with the tainted blood you left flowing through my veins
the, clock broke and now I'm wondering when mourning you ends
and morning begins again
3am and I'm accepting the apologies that I never received
3am and i'm coming to terms with the lies that I never believed
I was always blissfully ignorant to the truths you kept as secrets
painfully aware of all the lies you cowered under
3am and I'm simply searching for the
truth in real ties and the pleasure in pain
Can you give me that?
I'm fixin' on how to rewind time, and fix the
hands on your clock
you know
so that they match mine
my thoughts sit on a grey cloud in my mind
and I realize.
I can't write anymore.
without you--I can barely even breathe
so tell me...how am I
supposed to place two words standing together
while this whole time I've been on my knees
tick. tick. tick.
3am, that's when the clock blocked and my hand stopped
how am gonna finish this ?... I guess I'm not.
****, writer's block.

Hey.
I just wanted to let you know that I’m done.
If I ever loved you at all… I don’t love you anymore.
True, lately I’ve been lonely, and if I told you that I missed you, I don’t miss you
I promise I’m just bored.
You were already here, and I needed a muse. I was trying to talk to you
But you wouldn’t listen.
I was getting tired of the “Miss Yous”; they were starting to feel misused.
So I cut you loose.
Cause I was tired of the lies as well. No games, we both grown.
And we both know **** well that nothing resembles the truth more than what is true
So what does that make you?
Maybe I’m a fool because I didn’t listen when they tried to put me up on game about you.
Let’s play a game, and for once let’s not make it about you.
I dare you to tell me the truth…and while I wait, I’ll tell you mine.
1. What’s true is that I’ve been lying to myself while making up excuses for you.
2. I ignored every lip stick stain, 2am phone call, and deceit-scented fragrance...thinking that made me a rider.
3. I even decided to dedicate my poems to someone new, but two wrongs don’t make a writer.
Maybe I’m a fool, because I always end up giving the wrong people the right pieces of me...
Remember when I used to tell you that I was fat? And you’d reply, “No, you’re beautiful”
I wondered why I couldn’t be both.

Remember when you told me that you loved me, so you’d never cheat? I wonder why I didn’t think you could do both.
You were looking for real, while real was looking at you.
You were QUICK to give up something real when something close started looking at you too.
You reached into my soul and removed my vital organs.
Broke my ribcage to make a home for your heart…now tell me
WHAT THE HELL am I supposed to do with a broken ribcage and an empty space?
I can’t even blame you…by always putting you first,
I’ve taught you that I always come second.

I made your love home, my favorite place
& on the weekends you made HER home, your favorite place.
You were my poetry, my safe place.
My lock my heart up and don’t tell anybody where you keep the safe…place.
It’s funny though, because it seems that we had galaxies between us
And yet you still needed space.
Shout out to the pain that gave me understanding
Shout out to the pain that helped me realize what space meant.

I remember pretending to be every girl that you’ve ever been with,
Like you were a ******, and I was your first.
Like you were an atheist and I was the first church you ever stepped into
I loved you. Bruh, I talked to God about you.
I pretended to be the only girl you ever encountered so technically I was the only one, but I was never the only once because I was never the only choice that you had to choose from.

I remember you telling me that I would never have to compete with another soul.
I wonder why I believed you…hmm
I guess I was scoping the competition with my eyes closed.

Not closed too tight to notice you trying to pull wool over them though.
In my mom’s hopeless attempts to console me, she told me that time heals all wounds…as if she forgot that all wounds still hurt for some time.
But its fine... my palms are too small to hold grudges.
I’m done. It’s crazy though, I swear I could write journals worth of poetry to you
But when it comes time to speak, my voice gets caught in my throat every single time.
Not this time.
Baby our love was like a poetic metaphor.
It was either me or her…I guess you chose who you were riding for.

Tell young girls
The truth about love.
How it is almost always lost.
Almost never enough…
That it is often just that. almost.

And “almost” is a poison
Will taste good on the tongue
But bitter in the throat.
Will sit in your stomach like question.
will never give an answer for the tears
It makes of you.

Tell them of the tears.
How the tears are happily ever after’s
They are prince charming’s and glass slippers.
They are romance novels and first kisses...
Running away from us.
Leaving us with our wounds and wonder.
Force-feeding us reality in its heavy muck.

Prepare them for reality.
There is beauty somewhere in the pain.
For we are a pained people – us humans
a crumbling city conquered by our wants
A wanted mob fiending for the delusion of love
that love is perfect. enough.
no matter what we smile
through in the
daytime.
none can escape
The late night why’s.
None can escape the irrelevance of
our lies.
Nor the cold pillow
Nor the moment of clarity
In our beds
Where not even touch
Comes close to enough.

And as I lied on that couch in my cousin's house I couldn't help but begin to weep. I wept for my father, who, for the past few years has been in and out of jail. I wept for him and I wept with him. The only man I've ever truly loved was locked in a place void of it. And I can't sleep because it's all I think; how the kindest man, with the biggest heart, is now the smallest man with the biggest guard. Happy father's day.