I wish I had candid prints of my parents
I wish they got along
I wish they didn't make me feel so embarrassed
All the other kids had both of their parents
It's just me and my mom
I never gave her PTA papers cause she was too busy playing both roles
There's a hole in my heart and she knows
I wish I had candid prints of me with my parents
But no one captured the pictures
Everyone was too busy
I've been the man of the house since I could speak
Why did it have to happen to me
Did I deserve to be a pawn
Was there something in my last life I could control at all
Momma, Was I a villain
How come all these kids know what it's supposed to be like to have a real family and I didn't
Tears fall on my cheeks
I've been crying for weeks
I've never been selfish, I've never made it bout me
Momma ain't happy and I feel like that's all on me
It's my fault she ain't get to life out her dreams
I hope my kids see their mother as a queen
As I praise her every day on two knees
Even if I'm broke and don't have enough money for a ring
I still promise to love her more than anything
I wish my kids will never have to wonder what I looked like as a teen
Having photos in a shoe box of me since 16
And a red room full of photos of their mother before and after pregnancy
Thousands of home videos from birth to graduation
I wish I had candid photos of my parents together
Ive never seen them together
Except when they exchanged me for a week or whatever
What a life as a kid
Spending weekends with my cousins
I never had my own brother
It's just me and my sister
All of us half related due to another misses or mister
And they've all grown up now
It's been so long since I've seen their faces
We've all been busy living in different places
I try to keep in contact
But I never get a call back
Momma am I the villain
I've watched everybody leave us
Why they all wanna leave us
Why everybody only call when they need us
Why nobody helped us out when we ain't even have a home to sleep in
Momma am I the villain
I've been taking these photos to remember where I came from
And when I make my life into something I'll have everything I need to humble myself
I'm trying to capture the beauty in all my friends because one day they'll need us
And one day they'll see us
I wish my candids prints will be world famous
I wish my candid prints will teach my kids that everybody can be somebody if somebody said they would never be famous, that's real.

I've been here for five days now
hearing stories of an abusive relationship
witnessing the mood changes and verbal jabs
I just want to sleep, mama
The palm trees have welcomed me
but it's not enough to keep me calm
they're still screaming and I'm a nervous wreck
His words pierce her throat and still she counters with straight hooks to his neck
I just hope it doesn't get out of hand, mama
I've been here for five days now
and I'm comin' home tomorrow
the sunshine state has been cloudy all week
I just want to see the sun, mama
The moon must be upset because the waves are fierce
the wind keeps blowing me back and there's a storm in the distance
I guess the sun didn't want to play today, mama
The arguments are getting to me now
in a flash the verbal jabs became physical
am I wrong for turning my cheeks and trying to go back to sleep
I close my eyes and try to vision the Palm trees
I've been here for five days now
pretending this relationship doesn't effect me
I can feel the jabs in my lungs, I try to go to sleep but I can't breathe
I'm afraid that if I leave she won't be able to breathe and i won't be able to sleep
but I've gotta come back home, mama
I might not return home alone, mama

if you have no one to write about
then how could you write about something
if you've never been in love
then how could you write about loving
has it ever been mutual?
if you have nothing to cry about
then how could you smile for something
cause after the rain comes the sun
but it's not shining or warming
what does this do to you?
I thought the wonders were beautiful
until I wander to you wonder if you even think that you're beautiful
these poems are nothing to you
but I keep on writing cause it's the only way to get through to you
I think I'm starting to hate writing poetry
I'm just sick of this poetr--
if you have someone to write about
you will always find them in something
if you have someone to dream about
maybe you'll dream of the wonders
has the view ever been so beautiful?
if you cry with tears of joy
will you smile with your heart too
cause when the sun isn't present
can stars and the moon make you beautiful
look inside and see star of the north
I've been guided straight to you
The nights I spend alone and I cannot find you, the sky is too polluted
The last time I saw you I wandered to a wonder and was amazed by the view
now I just wonder if you ever wander making it harder to find you
I hope that I'll find you

but with my last breath
I wouldn't hesitate
to tell you one
last thing and just
as it airs out
I lose consciousness
leaving you with
"You are my-"
then I'd ascend to the skies
becoming your guardian angel
how quickly times have changed
I find myself guiding you to places
you've never been, giving you hints
to the end of the sentence
destination one, Wyoming
meeting at the peak of Elbert
this is the closest you've been to me
you're screaming my name asking
If I can even hear you
and my response
brings the sun out of the clouds
this is the closest you've ever been to me
destination two, Alaska
you've come here to escape the world you left at home, just for a week
camping out in Fairbanks
you've slept through most of the nights
but this night you'll see me again
when you suddenly wake up at 12:45 AM
and look into the sky
You'll see all the lights I promised you
I know we're not in the big apple or the city of sin, but Fairbanks had a view that even us Angels couldn't believe
destination three, Paris
You continue to play the voicemails over and over again
hoping to get as much out of this city that you can
I'm the one that's gone now as you beg for my return..
reading the book full of poems I gave you
under the Eiffel Tower, you stumble upon a series of words you haven't seen before in the book
And you've read it front to back every Sunday morning
"You are my rock, my beautiful night sky, my love."
tears run down your face
now that you know
what my last
breath meant

stupid songs make me fragile
I was heartbroken a few times
but I had to be tough cause momma
said boys don't cry
stupid people made me quit writing
I was heartbroken a few times
but I had to be tough cause pops
said my skin is thicker than leather
and I should have never let anything penetrate the surface
but what do you do when you meet someone who is a shape shifter
shifting everything into place as if it wasn't good enough before the storm
you realize you built a house without a gutter
where did all of the water go?
stupid weather makes me fragile
I was caught in the storm a few times
but pops said men don't need umbrellas
so my hoodies soaked
and my shoes are mushy
making that stupid high pitched sound
with each step
Stupid love songs make me fragile
They let me know I am not alone,
but they also let me know I am not special
Heartbreak
"It happens to everybody"
that's supposed to make me feel better?
I started writing again. Why did I stop?
Stupid people.
"Not everyone has the same heart as you."
the good people aren't as good as they say they are now
Who am I supposed to believe?
I don't want to turn into them, don't let this world make me that way
Jaded.
I'd rather be fragile, so easily taken away in the wind
Though the wind is not always gentle, storms pass by but my house still stands
Misunderstood but I understand now
those good people are good, not just pretending
those good people have let the world change them
Still there is heartbreak, there is stupid & jaded
But we need genuine, we need soft, we need fragile
Just to remind us "Not everyone has the same heart as you" so find the ones who do

she only came to visit on thursday mornings, when the dew was still fresh and the sky was a purplish-pink tint.
I still had a few more weeks left in the hospital, I've almost made a full recovery.
she'd knock twice before entering, and she'd light up the room with an idyllic smile.
bringing fresh flowers and a new get well soon card each time, signed by everyone still afraid to visit me.
she knew that I still wasn't able to speak, all I could do was write.
she'd still speak to me and I'd listen as she read her latest poetry and sing her favorite songs to me.
Her eyes would glisten from the cracks in the blinds letting in the most exquisite lighting I've ever seen before.
She could only stay for thirty minutes, and every minute felt like a millisecond.
It was time for her to go now, so she kissed me on the cheek and said
"I love you, I'll be back next week"
Just as she was walking out, I realized my window was open, so the door slammed shut when she closed it.
In an instant, I'd wake up and realize it was just a dream, consciously knowing that I couldn't wait much longer for her return.
Every time I wake up from the dream, I'd be weak in the knees and I would barely be able to talk.
The sky is still a purplish-pink, the dew is still fresh, the only difference is....
It's Thursday and she hasn't came to visit me yet.

I spent the beginning of the semester
writing short unfinished poems
soon to be completed
by the words of someone else
terribly afraid of the messages
who am I speaking of
what am I talking about
writing in ink
hoping that I don’t run out
anytime soon
there’s still so much to say
the words translated between the two
were more than magical
most artist collaborate
connecting concepts
this was different
these artists collaborated
kept the vision of one
telling two stories
through the voice of one
only to be told to one another
only to be seen by the binders
they kept all of their scraps in
I spent the end of the year
writing completed poems
soon to be forgotten
by the minds of others
terribly afraid of the messages
being missed
I’ve been speaking to you
I’ve been talking about life
writing in ink
hoping that I’ll never run out
I’m just getting started
these words I hope you see
and remember the quotes
I left you
most artists go their separate ways
and never reconnect