I can't stand up here and tell you a story, but I can bring to the surface a conversation meant to stay between myself and you. It's seems like we've been through this time and time again, but it makes sense since I can look at the pendulums swaying like hips of a woman with curvature added to her body when it comes to a stop and there is no more click to it's predecessor toc. It is time to bring these words into inception with me knowing there is no deception of me sharing this connection that I have with you. You've gained a trust of a lost soul waiting to be found. A lost soul, who needed comfort and a keeper who would be the equator to his heart showing him who he is. A lost soul in need of a father, because his wasn't there to play catch in a field instead he would be happy behind bars or in the streets getting money to share with those who weren't his, yet have 3 kids who he did not make his priority making this lost soul wonder what it is to be a man. Because he had no guide to show him right from wrong, but you shown him how to love and gave him comfort over the years where all he needed was another lost soul with a life like his yet different in the mass of issues surfaced by the tensions which lacked a description in the beginning. But to him, it was okay, for he knew one day you would soon sprout too. He would make it his duty to know you better than he could ever imagine. He had hope, and had different intention now then he did then. And all he wants to say now is a nice little thank you, and he loves his forever best friend.

Fill me with patience
Divide me in love
Pour out the care from within me.

Transmute my being
Display my thoughts
Engage in my brain and get to know me.

Hold my words against me
Fight my battles without action
Take the pride that subliminally seeps away from my smirk.

I'll stand my ground for what I believe
I speak out loud the stories to not be told
I subconsciously **** you.

My target is you
Ready
Aim, Fire

Crush my dreams
Step all over me
Gas me up.

Feed me knowledge of the lies
Extract the feelings that I hide
Swallow these bullets through the dome.

Games Over

I am slowly learning to enjoy every moment; but I am well aware that this today will very quickly become the past joining the club of history full of yesterday's as time flies and I'm not quite sure why I'm still here. Begging the question of If I'm living or easily existing taking in the pressure of a target prepared for aim. And it's a shame that not a day passes where death does not cross my mind like a shooting star it will not go unnoticed but written in the books preserved for the ones keeping an eye on me, not quite close enough. Because the glare of their moon shaped eyes isn't sharp enough to keep up with knives cutting through  my life and I truly want to stop. Stop the scars, disguised as areas for pain to be released. Instead they become homes to open wounds where I am drained of life...

It is now 1:27 in the morning, the time where the tick tock time bomb begins. The time where I know exactly how I feel, but can't seem to show it. Wanting to share my pain, but you don't know it so I stare into the corner of my room where  an inch of moonlight makes his way through the darkness and I stand, looking down into the area of light with the mirror image of my shadow facing in my direction. My reflection, a soul captured silhouette screaming for help but no sound can be heard....

Rewind

Instead they become homes to open wounds where I am drained of life..and although I'd rather die right now, I hope that my cell phone rings and it's you reminding me of the things that I have and the moments that we share. But that never happens, so i sit there playing a game of death or dare where my own life is on the line. And I'm running out of time to decide on what to do. It's now a quarter till two because by then I just close my eyes and go back to sleep usually but right now I feel weak not numb, but useless. Just destructive, and abusive. Truly wanting to know what the strength of a noose is.

I can't remember these memories that multiply through the cycle of my mental. All I can remember are the ways you treated me as if we just floated across the waves of the oceans constant bumping against each shore line on a sunny wet beach. Where all you can do is lie on the bed of sand that stays beneath your feet as you rest there looking at the midnight stars wanting to simply reach for them. As if there were something really out there. Because, the stars that that you look at in this wide opened scenery of our sky all die just like the sparkly shine I once seen in your eyes. They are dead open flames reminding me of the  feelings that I once had for you. And To think, I would still do the minor things to put a smile on your face....mmmmm, that's a **** shame. You once shown me you were mine, at the time that we spent together. But I guess we were just a clock waiting for batteries to bring it to life. time well spent, but also time well wasted. Which is why I will never wish on another star on the belief it'll come true. Because, I don't want to find another dead *****, just like you.

Its hard to see with no light to guide me.
Its hard to feel with nobody to like me
its hard to sleep with no bed to sleep on
its hard to eat with no food to fix
Its hard to trust people and their tricks
And you'll ask me who I am
I'll simply answer I don't know
Then you'll ask if I have anyone that takes care of me
And I'll say No
Finally you'll l ask How do I live
And I'll say
Trapped in a room abandoned by light
Treated roughly by people not wanting to fight
can't sleep because I don't know if I'll die at night
I'm cold and there's no one to keep me warm by holding me tight
I'm hungry always having to hear my stomach grumble
I have no trust, because, I get played which makes my trust issues double
And then again
You'll ask me who I am
But now its to late
because
There I laid me down to sleep
And I prayed to the Lord My soul to keep
That night I died and never did I wake
I prayed to the Lord my soul to take

Have you ever dreamt of what's it's like to wake up knowing you left others to live their lives as your soul ventures on it's new journey, after death, but before Christ you will bend hand and knee letting Him know you believe and hope that you will fit through the narrow pathway into the gates of heaven not quite sure of what it will be, but sure enough of it being pure greatness. And in a split of a second all of your lifetime memories replay inside of your mind causing a neurological explosion of nostalgia to release and you remember...remember those you love living in the moment and feeling the pain of sorrow

Can you prove to me that it isn't a struggle to tell a young black boy that he will never experience the physical presence of his mother, because she was taken away from him when he was just a baby. A baby, who will grow and wonder why none of the familiar faces is the one he is in search for. A child, who will never have the benefit of being a mamas boy. A young man, victim of defaulted abandonment issues. Just another precious black son, who will be challenged as another statistic because he was deprived of the greatest love one can ever receive.

A mothers love is one of the greatest love there is, but a black mothers love is even more powerful. Because a black mothers love is built on back aches from working all day long to feed her children dinner ever night. Foundation so strong, Hercules himself would break a sweat. A black mothers love is shaped by the predetermined deck of cards she was dealt as a person of color ever since the beginning. Misused and hardly understood. Her worth, a beautiful black queen so devine, it shall endure until the end of time.

And still I ponder!

How can you tell a mother holding her newborn child that before she sees her last day, her sons body will leave this earth before her own? Giving her the knowledge that will cause hurricanes to reach shore. Changing her life for the worst, because she must raise a boy who may not make it into being a man, but he will always be a mamas boy. And she will do her ****** best to make sure his life was worthwhile and had meaning. Impacting more then just herself, but the world around.

I tell you, there is not a pain greater than a mother laying her son to rest, because  his days are ceased before her own. It's non-traditional, a bit unorthodox but is slowly making its way into a norm as the number of young black lives lost rises. Im just tired of seeing the numbers of my people drop slowly but surely  

So, still I ask when are black lives going to matter? How many more lives have to be stolen from us until we say enough is enough? How many more lives have to be stolen until we teach our young ones to love their skin, and every little thing that makes them them. Teach them, that black is beautiful and always has been. Maybe then we will find peace, And if not we will die trying.

I am trapped in a vessel I cannot call my own, separating myself from flesh my mind races searching for answers throughout the universe trying to pick up a frequency I hear in the distance as I close my eyes and just breathe. Imagining the crashing of waves taking me to a place of solitude. The vibe becomes promising as I’m pulled into another dimension I like to be, reminding myself that in order to find peace I must follow the beat box central from within. Producing the transfer of messages necessary to keep me going.

All I ever want to do now is soak up the positivity, see me as an electron in search of a proton forcing a pull greater than any, this what I yearn for. I’m conflicted with the thought that my own life might not be in my own hands and that my destiny was predetermined which is why I find myself lost, stuck in a place of non-complacency I must not conform to these motions/notions instead learn enlightenment, be more like Buddha. Practicing internal balance, meditate listening to the stories the wind has tell or hearing birds chirp, singing a tune in a tranquil expanse of nature where even flowers never really die but are rebirthed.

Keeping self in mind I mustn’t become jaded by the external, allowing my chakras to become deranged. Instead, I become selfish. Realizing that the ten toes I was given weren’t made for falling. I gain hope in process where failure gives the opportunity to grow in what we call life.

But, could it all just be a dream? Letting inception take its course when things are out of my hands. Feeling more myself than I’ve ever been. Actually feeling what it’s like to be me. To be free.

Long roads of emptiness Nothing to fill the void
Darkness creeps up from behind without any introduction
Leaving you filled with trepidation as you sit there all alone
No one is there to give you comfort
So in time you just cast a stare and begin to think
You take a trip to the depths of your mind
Finding the words lost away never to be heard by any soul
They just sit there as if they are just taking up space
Space that can be used, but space that isn't used to amuse
However, to abuse you from the inside out
Taking just 2 steps backwards away from it all you fall
Deep into the despair, denial, and disbelief
The locked up words begin to attack and swallow you whole  
Kicking and screaming gets you nowhere
Too many words have been consumed in this space left untouched
there is no running away, and there's no turning back
Just as the words, you are held captive
Deprived from the known you are mentally stuck
Coma.
The words are now all you know
Paralyzed, leaving you  numb to the touch or the feeling of life.
The words that have been left unsaid continue to consume you
This is a fight you know you can't win or defend to stand your ground.
They were searching for the inner you, and that's exactly what they found.
And finally, the inner you reaches in to unfold, unravel, and reveal these words scrambled in the back of your head
Which now aren't the words unsaid.
These words that were once dead were finally given life.
Tears begin to run down your face,
Realizing all this time you've spent  bottled up has been a waste
All things have hit the fan, boiled over and have spilled out on its own command
And then its all over
The Finale
This is the escape these unspoken words had all planned.

Do you despise me because of the words I use or the way i talk
What about the clothes that I wear or the way that I walk.
You see
The way that I speak it what makes me unique.
I'm apart of a group that gets put down for who they are
A group that expresses their thought in spoken word or writing
But you won't understand when you are listening to this poem I am
reciting.
You see
My life ain't no poetry
But it is the beat of my heart
And a type of love that will never fall apart...
I come home to parents I don't even know
And when I hear all the crying and arguing I get fed up and want to go
But you can't tell the type of life I live
You can't find the tears that run down my face
You can't feel the feelings I hide without a trace
Is that why you despise me?
Because I go through so much that I still have time to put a smile in my
face?
You see
All that steam is put into the time I spend writing poetry
But like I said my life ain't no poetry
It's simply just an easy way I express my pain

Dear american, I am a 19 year young soul in a vessel that does not belong to myself, but with my exterior, you would say is of the lesser and I understood the immediacy of you putting a target upon my head, and let me announce this to you now that I am not infuriated by this. Why must we still live in a time that as a young black man, I have to work twice as hard to live up to standards your own was never meant to climb up in order reach the bar for. As a young black man, why should I be ashamed of my own intellect, wanting to disguise it by ignorance or to impress you with the dribbling of a ball or the handling of a mic? Dear America, my great grandfather did not have a middle school education, but even in the least that does not make him "another dumb"_" rephrase, an uneducated person, for the work he knew how to do with his hands makes up for those years missed, and the hands of a man like his tells a story your own great grandfather could never tell. To this day I still look up to him, for he had class, he had knowledge, he had wisdom he had God. He had God! Dear America, I will not sell myself short of my dreams just to become another number of your system. Dear American, I wonder if one day you'll understand. The hands that I have to offer you, will not share what my grandpas had. But my brown eyes will tell you mystory. My skin brown skin will tell you our story. My presence will alert every one of you the moment I succeed, you will frown at the thought of another successful black man. Ashamed of your own son, because he let another young black boy beat his own rank. Dear America, why must you be the police of the world when you cannot face your own issues at home? Dear America, I write you this letter in hopes that it Speaks to you. Dear America, I am not afraid. Dear America, I will stand my ground. Dear America, my hands are still held high. Dear American, I wonder how I made it to the end of this poem, because I still can't breathe. Dear America, why have you put the fear in our mother's eyes allowing them to believe that if their sons do not obey you, we can be here one second and gone the next? Dear American, do you realize that this message I am unraveling is too real to go unnoticed? Dear American, do you see that my message is too hard to make up? Dear America

I'm a ******, yes a striker, with a quick mind, but even faster actions. I live in a world where my actions, truly do speak louder than words after all, ever since I began his rhyme I'm been aiming at you. I was just wondering how much time it would take your simplistic mind to realize that Im really the one watching you and your every move. So, I'll take a break and let it sink in for a bit. Tic-toc-gun shots, oops there someone goes. A lost soul who now roams bodiless scraping across this earth. Being buried and put to rest, while in reality your flesh is being eaten and deteriorating, and now you're temple which was once your body is left to be another sack of bones screaming of untold stories left behind and 6 feet closer to the pit of our earths core. Now, do you still wonder why we humans do the things we do? Or are you still confused of who's really at hang who? Because if you think too hard, you won't be able to apply it. Which is why I believe I am better than you. You think now and act later, but now it's all too late. It's time to write the numbers to the blank line labeled dusk date.....

With you, I don't have a fear of falling...out of love that is. I can't imagine having just enough of you to just settle me. I wake up into space, were matter consumes me as a whole and my mind is gone. Putting matter over mind where everything is out of order, I begin to hallucinate this perfect picture of us painted in my head. I've overdosed on the thought of you, things become clouded as I begin to frustrate myself. You create a civil war, where I am my own enemy fighting for the same thing leaving me where I started. Alone. Where there is no one to sympathize for the void of my frontal presence, because it is now controlled to you. Every action made by the jurisdiction of your ruling but you are clueless to it all. You said, "take my hand." And I went for it. Giving into the misinterpretation of your subconscious flirtation. You took me for a ride and all I followed was every curve your hips made. Hypnotized. You're the only thing I feel I must acquire. Becoming all I know. Eventually, I feel a shock sending me further away from you. stimulating erosion of the captivation, I am no longer held captive under your spell. You become nothing I know  wide awake, out of my mind. Floating where I seen you, and now I don't. An illusion, taken apart like a puzzle stitched together. Broken bonds, and I am back. And I am right back where I was. I've had enough of your drug. And I don't need you anymore.

Every night I dream of swimming, but this time it was different. I’ve been caught inside a wave, I begin to drown. My legs are tied to an anchor and I’m finding my way closer to the bottom of the sea. I yell for help, knowing no one can hear my cries. I begin to look up and see the people I love watch me as I suffocate wanting to gasp for air, but life swallows me whole. Every morning at 3 am, I am at war with my mind while you are asleep. Balancing between life and death searching for a way out of limbo. But the waves get bigger, and the tides come in harder. I remember the one time I went to the beach, and all I ever wanted to do is be the king of the ocean. So I built sand castles to the best of my knowledge, conquering my skills. But the tides of the waters continued to crush my creations. Knowing this would happen, I still became frustrated unaware that I was supposed to be learning a lesson about life. Where life was the ocean, turning into a tsunami and I was the castle being torn down and taken back. I begin to drown again. And when my lungs fill with water, it feels like a knife being jammed into my ribs and I am bleeding. I start to become cold and numb. I run to think that maybe I deserve this, maybe I am fault so I begin to give up. In that very moment I notice my position continues to get deeper, I gasp for my last breath and I am only letting the salt water run through my veins drowning me from the inside out. And I am being crushed by the pressure, it becomes unbearable. This is my life, everyday I suffer with this, and I know that you will not be able to walk a mile at the bottom of the sea in my shoes. Every night before I go to sleep, I tell myself it is okay to let go and be done, but I cannot leave the ones I love to suffer at the expense of my doing and my wrongs. I will not stand to be that selfish. My eyes begin to close and I knew this was it. My days are over, this time I was not waking up from this dream. But then something happened, and I was not prepared. As soon as I let go, I let God. Tears begin to rush down my face. He gave me breathe once more, giving me life again. Letting me know that He will not let His creation go to waste that easily. He told me that He did not create me to give up, but believe and live by Him. He lifted me up and showed me the way back. He taught me to love myself, and to never feel alone and left filling me in that I am never alone and that He will always be there with me. In a blink of an eye, He was gone but there at the same time. Now, I do not dream about swimming anymore but flying, wings spread out knowing I will not fall, because as long as I believe and never let go I can conquer it all.

Just like the flower, you are a lotus
You keep me coming back forever making me not wanting to leave. And At the taste of one bite, I already want more. You give me life, at the same time hold me captive. I adore your creation, as I'm deteriorating from within. You make me feel that 1 may be a lonesome number, yet I'm better by myself. Testing the waters with something new, instead of wasting my time being infested by you. You took my heart and hold inside of a jar collecting them leaving many men with open scars. Keeping me inside of this prison where I can't break these bars. Baby, this isn't love.

Love is when you continue to finish my sentences. Accepting my wrongs instead being my critic. Love is when I am able to feel our souls combining at ever kiss we commit. Sealing the deal of trust, instead of holding me inside this solitary confinement. Love is when I'm afraid of losing you, like a lost child away from his mother. Love is when I can feel the connection as I lay deep inside your blue ocean sea. Love is when your palm rest on my chest and you feel my heartbeat being in-sync with your own. We become one, a metronome. Beating at every tic to every toc. Where is my love?

I know she is out there waiting as she stares at the empty side of her California king bed. There lies an empty space for me ready to occupy, but I have to somehow break out of this lie. Break out of this jail that I once called home. Take these chains that bind me feet and pray to Jesus to forgive me for my lust. The emptiness I have committed myself to through lust instead of love  I'm just a little white dove on the edge of a branch waiting to take that first flight in the world. I don't sing, because this caged bird is afraid to spread his wings. Afraid of not being able to find my sleeping Beauty in her tower, waiting for me. All I need is some guidance, and a little bit of hope.


I'm ready to break free, Jesus has talked to me, answered my prayers. I got down on my knees and begged Him for forgiveness. Asking Him to break these chains. And That's exactly what he did, and the next thing to happen to me was incredible. I no longer bit from the lotus that held me inside the lies I called love. I left that broken home where that infested ***** took me for her own, her slave.

Now I lay across from my sleeping beauty of restless nights. Cuddled and snuggled in between her thighs it's passion. She is the fruit of my looms. Our souls reached out for each other and the love began. And as I know rest my head on top of her breast, I heard a pulse. Yes, a pulse. 2 beats  combined into one, I then knew Jesus' work was done.

To the girl in the back of the class, headphones blasting waiting for your day to be to be over, and hoping tomorrow won't be the same. I just want you to know something, I understand.
I understand that when you tend to get quiet, it's because everything that you hold captive inside is slowly consuming you from within. I see the scars you wear from the restraint you had, keeping you from truly being happy. I notice the pain you wear on your sleeve, covering up won't make it unnoticeable to my eye baby girl I see it all and I'm here to help. The wonders you bring to the world, and you don't even know it. You are the action potential to my neuron, sending me messages through space and time that can only be picked up at certain levels. Levels that are off the chart, and beyond many limits. I just want you to see the spark that you have, because it's greater than any star in any galaxy in a land far far away. And if you need a shoulder to cry on, just know you can count on me any day. For I am a hand, and you are its Palm. Soft and sensitive, with a tough layer of protection from it getting hurt. In this I ask of you to pick your head up, and hold your chin high and learn grace. Stop existing in this space we call life and live. Live to the capacity of your worth, and teach your knowledge to those in search of enlightenment. Bind your foot to your mind, so you can know what it is like to step inside of a dream, but bring a mirror to make it a reality. Because seeing is believing, and it is all you need for things to be true. Take this journey to find the key to your heart, and unlock it to find your passions, and remember, in order to get to the ending there is always a new beginning waiting to happen.

It's funny how I'll put up this front like nothing's wrong and keeping my heart far from my sleeve so you won't know the pain that resides deep down tethered around my soul.

Even the day after, I still wanted to pick up the phone to call you trying to figure out what was going on, but I couldn't. Now all I have are one way conversations trying to find some computation to make it all make sense...but it still doesn't add up.

I couldn't form my lips to speak the words into existence without realizing how painful it actually was. A pulse trembled throughout my body, but I felt a part of me escape through the tears that ran across my face effortlessly. Stripping me of one of the only pieces of you I had and I would truly give up my last to get that back.

In a world full of puzzles I only hold a piece without knowing where the box is. And all I ask is that I'm able to keep onto it til I'm shown that time doesn't actually exist and that life is just a dream we are waiting to wake up from. Because that's what I imagine it feels like.

All I'm left with are memories, but then i remember that not all stories have happy endings.

I love you.

12 June 2016

She opened my eyes allowing me to tap in to something I never knew existed from within. Embedded. Tethering her soul onto mine, talk about alignment. Setting all of my paths straight, God really must be a woman.

The last time I seen you,
You told me something
A smile began to form out of the creases of your lips
Wrinkles began to form in that forehead of yours
"I Love You," you said
Eyes, a bit drained, and at the sound of your voice, I knew. Yeah, I knew  
I begun to fight the tears flooding in the depths of my eyes.
My life flashes before me, all memories lying in the Alcatraz of my thoughts begin to replay
Daddy please, this can't be true
You grab my wrist and pull me in
But all I want to do now is flee from this greed that haunts in me

My knees fail me, and your arms where huge
Wrapped around me with warmth, the equator to my soul
The mind to my temple runs blank
Empty, slate, like an open journal waiting for pen to fill it's lines.
Hearing becomes impaired, and I just give up
My gut fills with bile and now I feel sick
Thoughts, again, flourish in my head, and nostalgia takes over.
Half of me is gone, and now life itself feels wrong
Where all I want to do is crawl into a cave of despair just to be numb to the world and watch time pass me by.

I took her for granted, and I regret all the fights that grew upon the disagreement that made its path from my tender thoughts I had given life.
My words became daggers to your heart, and I knew it hurt.
And I'm sorry

For her, my life I would most definitely give back
Although it is not mine to actually give away
I'd give her my life for her to stay on this earth.
Because, her worth meant more to me than the stars in he sky
Which makes me wonder, why?
Why her?
This motivation
This beauty in disguise
This fallen angel
My mom.

Someone like you, I want to be able to share to the world as my own. Standing a bit over 5 feet above the ground, you carry so much power in that vessel you wear protecting a soul with a capable heart which you show transparently. Letting the world know your true colors, adding this beautiful mosaic of your once blank canvas, and it grows in value creating a price of priceless, where no one can claim to wager a soul like yours. Blessed with a gift, where all you are able to do is share it, but refrain from abusing your individuality at the same time as remaining a queen where you sacrifice it all, reminding others it's not about you, but it is for them. And that is what we need, in this spherical planet which breeds life that we call earth.

I wish for someone like you to be the one I can share to the world as my own. Your presence lights up a room filled with nothing but darkness and ugly, giving birth to illuminance of something which presented no value or any worth. But you shown to us the beauty of it all.

Blessed would be the one you marry for a strong woman is eternity and something all men should acquire. Just keep in mind that hearts are somewhat like a blanket, keeping you warm, but if you leave it somewhere else you cannot claim it as your own anymore.

So, wear your powerful heart, but keep it out of the reach of others, and create a sphinx to be the keeper of your divinity where only the first to solve the riddle earns a piece of you. Not giving them the power of owning you, but the ability to call you theirs. For your are a white dove amongst a crowd of black crows in search of something new, something pure and special. Finding someone like you.

I want to burn that **** house down, feel the heat of our arguments burst into flames leaving nothing but ashes of memories. I want to lock myself in a room composed of 4 walls, and no door. Sit there remaining lonesome, because in that house I was always alone. It was never a home, and I was never wanted. All I ever wanted was to be taken to a place far far away...

You can never trust the kid that laughs everything off, and does all he can without anything being reciprocated. Next time you see him, tell him that Halloween is over, so he doesn't have to wear that mask anymore. Get him to release the unchained thoughts lingering in his mind, devouring him from the inside out. Give him a place to call home where the doors are open so he doesn't relapse from nostalgia, because he has come too familiar with what happens behind closed doors.

You only get time to think.

They say everyone has a killer instinct, you just gotta push the right buttons. It seems that you believe that I'm a robot to your command, and have lost the instructions so you continue to press all of my buttons until you find the right one. Ignorant you are, and will remain until you learn me. If only you would take the time to sit me down, open the gate to my insides to be introduced to my wiring. Unscrew the jar of pain that resides near my chest, so you can know what strength looks like. I want you to unwind the clock on my wrist to turn back time to see how long it's been since the last time you told me you loved me.

He prays you have time, because every hour you pass another year rewinds. It's 12 o'clock.

11
10
9
8
7
6

Test your might, and put your skills to the test make your knowledge the key to your success. Instead of making the idiocy act of your infantile mind be the pit of your failure. Looking at things from the inside out making it a tad bit paradoxical. Bringing yourself to the conclusion of not knowing right from wrong, but resolving your misunderstanding with thinking you're only human. Beginning the journey of the aspects of you believing you are of the lesser. The bottom feeders. Giving yourself the title of worthless. Not holding yourself to your full capabilities that you lack to focus on. So you see everything with a blur, going in painting the sky green and the grass blue. Living in a fantasy where you never grow up, there is a lack of evolution in order for a revolution to begin. Because that is where it all start. Now I'm not saying it's wrong of you to become nostalgic from time to time taking a trip back to where all you knew was **** near nothing. However, you've lived this luxurious life, where you only get one to use, so don't waste it on the countless times stuck in a dream not wanting to face reality. So once again, and make this a habit too, test your might and the knowledge you get to seemingly grow in order to know where and how to set your life on the ocean of life to just flow.

Home for me is somewhere over the rainbow, at my great grandparents
house. Well it was once my home before I left the family gathering place. When I
think of home it's the place: I can rest, feel the best and live life without stress.
Today I do not come home without stress because I don’t feel the best or get
enough rest to help my days go by. There are days I come to this house where I
get no reply, it even gets to the point where all I can do is cry. Where am I at, this
house is not a home, its just like I'm trapped up in this dome yelling to these four
walls “there is no place like home. There's no place like home.” In this house I
do not feel the protection I seek, if anything I only feel weak. Is this disturbing,
can you picture it now? Well guess what times up, time to go, see you later, ciao!
I got to find way back home, back to the place where me and my cousins use to
roam. However where are we now, separated trapped in this house with no
where to go, no family to see, OH HELL NO! I can not take it anymore, I really
have to go. Tic-Toc Tic-Toc, My brains about to blow! Get me out of this place
take me away, I want to go back, not tomorrow but today. Where are my loved
ones? They have gone to soon, now to a better place now up in the sky with all
the balloons.
Its been a long time since I've walked through doors of this place I call home.
Home is much less than it used to be. Where is all the laughter, the joy, you know
the family? Come on, jokes over you've got to be kidding. What happened to all
the barbecues, the 4th of July's and all the thanksgiving? Is this what we have
come to, a family with no more tradition. Just because Grandma and Grandpa
aren't here we start to lose our ambition. This is not right, this separation the
divide that only leads to total deprivation. I scream to up beyonder “Grandma and
Grandpa you've got to come back come help before the foundation you’ve
created begins to crack.”
Was all that had happened just a lie? The tiny voice in my head keeps
screaming who am I? Is my home today, what it used to be or is it just me? What
am I to believe, when I sit here just trying breathe an process the thought as to
where my expectations should be in reference to the place I call home. Its like I've
become so numb and its hard to look in the mirror to see what I have become. Its
hard to believe that the place I once called home is no longer what it was, and
just by looking at me you cannot tell the damage that it does. Remember when I
said, “ home is where the heart resides,' I left out one part, its for you to decide. So
to me I am homeless with a heart in search of a place. Now all I have to do is
figure out how to keep it on a stable pace, because without a home there is no
safety. All that is left is for me to walk alone bravely.

You can confide in me, just remember I too am only a vessel which means I can only hold so much before I'm overloaded carrying baggage I was never meant to, and can't drop on the curb every Friday morning...but come Friday night, I thought I did. Pouring out bottle after bottle, drowning myself in liquor drunken in a sunken place reaching an area unfathomable and out of reach of everything. The more I drank, the deeper I got, losing myself in the waters, hoping I'd be able to catch a wave, but it was too late. I found myself in a place where waves didn't happen anymore, and the pressure continued to build by masses I wasn't built to handle. I finally hit rock bottom, and there was nothing more I could do.

Hopeless.

Feeling this way is like screaming while on a roller coaster, it happens, but no one ever really pays attention. After all, we are all on the same ride. Belonging to the same local area, networking creating a web of support, but everyone knows once night falls and the screen goes black all you’ve got is yourself.

Restless.

In the middle of the night, running through thoughts without leaving a trace of how to get back so I go until I can’t run anymore. Falling deep into a-me-gdala. Trapped in a trance of nostalgia, replaying past experiences in search of something new. Instead, I just lay hear hoping that tomorrow never comes. After all, it isn’t like we were promised it in the beginning.

In the morning,

When the morning comes, I’m a new person. Sun shining through the window, shedding light through the pain I once had. I remind myself that life is like an echo, and the world we live in is listening. So, I try to speak things into existence creating a balance from within. Aligning the cards I was dealt trying to make sense of them, but now I’ve noticed that the next day deals from a new deck.