If the sky was falling, would you ever be able to take your eyes off of it for a second to remember why the world was beautiful in the first place?

Or would you just watch as it engulfed everything that ever mattered and wonder why it would do that to you?

I've never held any stock in aesthetics.
What mattered to me was the sweat and tears that I bleed that help
push those I love to higher ground.

I'd take on any storm, cut or break any bone to make sure
others can see you.

I haven't been a kid since the 90s,
because my life just didn't work out that way.
It has caused me to think too much.
But if you knew the burdens I carry,
then you'd know why I'm timid, broken and careful.

Stone-hearts stay cold even when blood runs like lava.
That push and pull carves roads in your skin like the glaciers from ancient tides,
A highway of frozen earth trapped by walls that can’t reach to the heavens.
If I fill the canyon with the heavy hearts of broken souls,
the children can have a lake to fish in when they grow old.
The catch?
Just the shadowy figures of the past anchored to the earth.
So pull, pull, pull and reel as hard as you can.
Can we get out of here please? I haven’t seen the rest of the world yet.

Every morning I wake up,
I hope to find Nirvana at the bottom of my coffee cup.
The only problem is when I see the white floor
peeking through the sea of brown,
I realized I forgot to pay my student loans.

I've laid tracks in my head that will take me anywhere.

Anywhere

But I can't bring myself to take a step.
I have nothing packed in a bag,
and it's not that I need to many things.
I just don't know what I have that's worth the trip.
I have fears that hold me back.

People always say you're overcrowded,
Piled up high, because there's no room
to spread your arms out wide.
Though I walk your streets and always find shade,
because people are my comfort.

A couple elbow bumps and maybe a "*******"

or two

doesn't ruin my day.


There are things here,
Ideas
Events
Passion
Things you can't find in the solitude of home.

That's why I'd choose to breath in this
damp, claustrophobic air.
If I lose myself in my head,
I'd never live outside of my body.
This place,
You,
Gives me that option.

I've had the hardest time trying to be a man, the one my father taught me to be. I never understood why he was always so tired, but now I've been searching for sleep for the past three years. The bags under my eyes are the same as his, and I thank him every day for the pride he's given me in a world full of distances and disrespect.

I don’t ask for much
But I ask for respect.

I ask for that moment when you don’t have to double check with me,
You trust that I’d remember and that I’d honor your wishes.

In a myriad of anger issues that cause blind rage and slow wit,
The thing that triggers it all is that one sentence when you presume to tell me what to do and how to act because you don’t believe I would act accordingly in the views of your perfect world.

Be cautious, because a lack of respect might tear down walls that haven’t even been built yet.

I’ve given up a lot of things for love.
A few I have rid on purpose.

But there are things that I never realized I gave up until I no longer wanted them.
In a life where the only things you have are the things you’ve found and taken,
When do you decide they aren’t worth your time anymore.

I want to hold on to the beautiful memories I have given myself over the years.
But the world changes, we all know that. Sun sets and the past grows longer.

Now I am fully immersed in a world I’ve wanted since a wee one.
The nights under the lights; the days under the scope.
I spill my passion on paper and hope others read into it to see the dirt that clogs my veins.

However, now that is expected of me. To show up and bare my chest, show my skeletons to the world while others reap the benefits of riding on this heart.

I never thought I’d be here, but now my life is going in a direction where I may never have the chance to pour my heart out in this lens again.

It’s silly how unimportant the world seems when you are watching your heart change priorities.

I need punk rock.
More than a Juliet.
A Juliet will tease you, get under your skin and cause you to crawl.
A Juliet will want to understand what you are.
A Juliet will ask where you are and want to know if you’re alright.
A Juliet will cause you to stumble and think about it all night.
She may pretend not to notice, she may think it’s cute.
But she still notices.

I need punk rock.
Punk rock will let you wear it on your skin and the world will see its mark on you.
Punk rock will never change because it is the wrinkles in your brain,
The stones that don’t turn sour, and the chords in your veins
Punk rock will scream out when you are feeling the most you.
Punk rock doesn’t care about you and it’s best that way.
Punk rock will live on and it will be the same now and yesterday.
I need punk rock,
More than a Juliet.

Next to me are people clad in black,
lost in a reverie that you gave us.
There are strong women doubled over,
and men who can't hide their drowned eyes with a stern face.
They've all known you and have
shared memories that I'll never know.
But one thing I do know,

I met a man once
in a field of chaos.
And he taught me about happiness.

You remind me of the fall, when I don't mind spending my days sitting in the shade. With my coffee and smoke, I spend all my time thinking about all of the days to come.
With you, I can smell the leaves that fall so the trees can get ready for winter.
The amber, melon, and dusk rainbow that blows across our view.

Most think it's a time of dying and fading glory.

But to me, it's renew. When everything starts again and you can leave the wrongs behind you. You can shed the worries off your shoulder as you would bad dandruff.

I think about the next year and what I can do with my time. It always seems like I have as much time as I need. Too much time, almost. I don't worry about overbooking or time constraints.

That is when I am happiest. When I'm sitting in the shade.

With you.

I know
Words are art
So I will say what I feel,
I will speak my mind for now and
Always.

All the Events that I’ve gathered, here
in my basket, are the sweet fruit I give to you,
my friends.
You like its taste the best.
But can you please find me something
so that I can snack too?
Because I’ve given away
all of my food worth eating.
Now I am just an empty plate with
a fork and spoon.

Every few years I feel the need to see what else is out there.
In the past, it has caused my friends to grow up, while I reset and spin in the same circuit redundantly.
Every time I hear about their lives and success, I smile and shed a tear.
Every single one of them has deserved the respect and happiness they have found.

I don't live in regrets, and I'm not jealous or green.

I just know my life is different, and I still have things to earn.

I don't care if it takes years away from me, I've always believed that the end didn't matter.
Live every day not for the future, my father always told me.

And everyday I spend here, I've never been happier.

I don’t remember getting old.
When did the days get so cold,
And all the things I used to care for not matter anymore.

I used to not be afraid,
Of putting everything I had
Into any little thing
And never look back

The days you left behind you weigh you down
And the candle you left lit starts to gets low.
You’ve burned through all your shoes over the past two years
From carrying all that weight.

I’ll never be the man you want me to be,
But I am the man my father taught me to be.
I take aim with my courtesies and hide all my worries,
Deep down in my veins with my endless insecurities

Every piece of me’s been built up from the ground with supports in all directions.
But I’ve taken them all away,
Ever since that day you left that day.
But I don’t think I needed them as much as I think you needed mine.

So I’ll take my life and build it up from the inside.
But if you knew the burdens I carry,
You’d know why I’m timid, broken and careful.

The West is drowning in vanity.
The East is lost to greed.
If only the middle was a content place.
But if the Mississippi drowned me, I wouldn't be surprised.
Just another place where I would lose myself in a world that doesn't know where to put me.

I wanted to place my heart on the hearth.
I wanted to show someone all that I can be.
Why was I so scared back then? I wanted to speak to you.
I dreamt of days when I walked up to you and saved you from a bully,
of days when I impressed you, and you let me hold you.
But for some reason I couldn’t talk around the dam in my throat.

So I started over. New places and new people.
I wanted to be a somebody to someone, to pull out
all the stops and make you feel like you’re worth it.
So I invested. God ******, I gave it my all.
But, like the tomatoes in a garden unpicked,
when the sun went away, I withered. And every year
I’d regrow my fruit and shine so someone new can pick me.
But every year, my tomatoes would wither.

I’m done with this garden and I’m done with this fruit.
I don’t want to be someone special to anyone nor you.
I want to be me, with no frills or flash.
I still want to have you,
but with no strings attached.
I want to disappoint you, **** you off, and make you laugh.

Why? Because I’m nothing special.
I don’t want to be special,
I just want to be me.
Some ordinary man, who’s extra ran out
on those who wasted it.

This is all I got now, but I’m
happy with it.