Her name was Paris, *** she never had been.
Tattooed wings of an angel, like she never had sinned.
Up and down the pole, the place reeks of Aspen and gin.
But she cant help her love of dollars, so shes keeping the grin.

Her and I, are more similar than different.

she undresses on the stage,
I undress with my soul.
she moves her body to the music,
I move the pen with the flow.

We both ain't getting rich of it ,
But the stage is like a rhythm its hard to stay off...


-afj

Raised by angels
with torn wings and tilted halos..
But we walk the heavens head high, your only fallen if you say so..
Life as an observer of reality like Plato..
& like Aristotle..
i tend to pass the bottle..
as if the bottle has a message..
But the message is blank, 
So who do i thank? 

Hey, Miss Bartender I've learned nothing in my stay, 
She said come back tomorrow and perhaps your thoughts will sway, 
So now i'm a regular, Tuesday mornings and Wednesday nights.
Happy hour is when I'm most sad, but the pricing is tight.

Feeling like an old soul and I barely can drink. 
Just last year I was dumping alcohol in my sink.
get rid of the evidence, but some truths cant be hidden. 
A wise women once told me some information thats chillin... 
Brought chills to me, she said.

"Remember we were made in the image of Gods. So may your dreams be nothing short of divinity."
&Ever; since that bartenders words were spoken, I knew nothing on this planet or the next could limit me.


-afj

Bound.
For hell,
Oh life is swell,
ain't it?
piece of art, tainted.
Convos with Satan,
Can you feel the cadence?.

Can you smell the melody?
Can you touch the tunes?
Can you taste the frequency, grab you some silver spoons.
Grab you a piece of advice, from the man on the moon.
Falling under the depths, ill have to handle it soon,.

Convos with Lucifer,
Lord of the Flies..
How'd he get my number?
probably family ties..
probably hearing the cries,
probably feeling surprised,
The light within me, forever will shine.

But for tonight,
i converse with The Anti-Christ..
Actually giving me some mad advice.

he said,
"I advise you, don't you ever find bliss..
If one day you do, you'll forever be ******.
Instead, stay in this chaos and revel,
Truthfully your bliss might become your hell."

How can you ask for sunshine if its always sunny?
How can you laugh at something if its always funny?
.......
suddenly i realized the ******* was right.
Only if hell bound, do you realize that heavens in sight.


-afj

Suffering from keeping feelings bottled up inside.
Suffering from pride.
Suffering from drinking bottles and using them as guides.
Suffering from lies.

Suffering from failure, I've used one too many tries..
Suffering from cries.

A nomad in disguise..

Walking along the common folk hoping the tears dry.
On the edge of a steep cliff ..just hoping my fears fly..

hoping they spread wings, and glide over the plains..
pass thru all the Midwest and land somewhere in Maine..
Like....
Why doesn't my destiny manifest?.
I'm done living as an observer and analyst..

I often wondered why the dreams of mine seemed far..
Finally learning memories are more important than dreams are..

& thats word to the wise,
Though the wise will dispute my claim..
But you see, dreams come and go some never are seen again...

Yet memories, are stored, in the storage room of your mind,
Where you can see, your feelings played out though the brain is blind,
where you can nurture, and torture your own self at will,
where you know exactly where your skeletons are hidden and still....

Would you rather lose memories or dreams?
Perhaps i suffer from this dilemma, or so it seems...



Why not keep both? Asked Alexis one day...

A month later, the Fates music decided to play..
...
without warning, her life& dreams taken away..
now all i got is memories,
memories to suffer and pray.


-afj

it was a tuesday afternoon, in the middle of june,
this barternder and blue moon will surely be my demise..
Its become a routine, every week im a fiend but suddenly to my surprise...

A woman walked in standing at 5'4, seeemingly hungover and beat.
Eyeliner & lipstick fading..lookin as if she couldnt find sleeep,
her hair has half *****, half curly and partly braided.
she sat on the stool next to me partly *** what i stated...
I said "welcome! take a seat, this is the sober section, besides. all the good seats are taken".
She smiled, more like a smirk, then proceeded to sit, at first oddly looking a bit shaken..

i noticed she was young, pobably barely 21, and she had a tattoo on her back, as she reached for her purse...
Clearly i didnt kno her origin, but an idea i was formin, especially when her art read, 'beauty is a curse'...
Clearly she was gorgeous. Green eyes with a brown complexion..
I asked her in awe which town she was sent from?..

She said she was from the bay..
grew up in her mommas house but now shes living with her bae,
I said oh word, whos the lucky man who gets to keep you???.
She said God......
*** she doesnt need to mess with people.

what brings her here,?
in this bar by the pier,
where theres something in the beer, making normal people fear.

She said she came to spread the word of God....
immediately i figure shes a fraud.

Hows a 'martini, piercing on her lip, tattooed from her back to her hip,
looking like she wont tip....'
typa girl claiming to be holy?

She smiled, more like smirk, and whispered,........
you dont even know me.

And proceeded to say she came in this bar because there was a presence of a demon in disguise..

I laughed are u sure it isn't just u?
She held up a mirror. I saw a demon in my eyes.





-afj

Inscribed, in my heart..
bible verses, in cursive i know my purpose..
cursed are those who lay curses, and purchase purses that cost more than the life of a person..

But its all Gucci..
New Jordans on my feet, so they might shoot me.
Ironic huh,? after all the shots Michael took...
seen so much misery i might write a book..
Name it: When Life is Shook...

battle depression, my blades sharper than my foe though..
Yet they wonder why i never tend to smile in my photo,
they wonder why i hate social media, and society..
they wonder why im so mysterious, maybe its the Mayan me,
maybe its the eye in me..
i used to think God himself was denying me..
now i know that God never lies, he just lies in me.

not religious though, this isn't my confession to faith..
I've sinned to much to get passed the heavenly gates,
Besides, i saw heaven once, splitting an 8th..
probably the reason why im up still, riddling late..

*** truly my lifes a riddle,
So i write what i live...
So glad at 22 i havent had me a kid..

*** i barely know myself, and i still have to grow up..
how dare i ever preach truth, and be a father that dont show up?

But now im just rambling, i vent so i could sleep..
i know this isnt poetry..but poems take me deep..
in my mind, and my emotional ocean i hate to dive in..
but currently im swimming, ill tell you when i've arrived in..


-afj