You find yourself in the creases of someone's heart.
You find yourself in the depths of a beautiful mind.
You find yourself locked into that one book no one else reads.
You find yourself lost in the commotions of pointless drama.
You find yourself in a little bit of everything, but today you  found yourself stirring into trouble you should have left alone.

It took years to suppress you and only minutes to embrace. You have given me hell, but let me see some beautiful insights. I've poured you and varied you and did everything to numb you. From drugs to alcohol, self harm to counseling, and you've never died. You've made me feel things I've never wanted to feel, but I thank you for being the only thing to stay by my side.

The sweet smell of late winter running through my nose. The brisk air pushing me to close my bedroom window. The **** taste of coffee at 5:00 in the morning. The long wait of my lower class T.V. To turn on. I think I will take a walk instead today.

You are etched in every word I draw, and you are heard by my audience. You were my go to, my angel. You were the reason I kept going and now that I have fallen I knew I had dropped you. I apologize for everything my angel, so forever rest in peace as I walk chained with brittle bones and no words to speak. Farewell my love, this will be that last.

My deepest feelings are through my fingertips, as I etched my life through pain and happiness. I tried shading myself Into something I'm not, but I felt the deepest affinity when I rolled my fingers over the work of art you made yourself into.

I saw your spirit and burned it to your skin. I held you in my arms and told you it would be okay. I told you I loved you and I meant it. Forgive me of my faults. Forgive the condemned selfless boy you once knew. I ask for your savior and I'm sorry I asked too late.

It was me. It wasn't the angel that had become my everything. It wasn't the life my had become, but it was me. It was the lies that rolled off my tongue like it happened centuries ago. It was the addiction that dug me deep enough to see no way it. It wasn't the perfect girl who did everything for me. It was me, that dug myself so far all I can do is tell myself that I messed up.

My inner demons give greetings to those who are willing to stay long enough. I learned to talk to myself.

My feeling are sealed for nobody to read, and you unravel them like I am some novelty item.

I see a warrior behind all the wounds you called a "accident"

You're asleep while i'm awake waiting to see the day of light to dance upon your sweet caramel covered skin.

These chains are locked onto my ankles, rattling as I try to grasp onto the soul I once knew.

Your color differs, that is true, but your color does not define you. My brother in this country please get back up. The emotional lashes upon your back are healing, and together we can stop this. My brother in strength please grab my hand, for we will change this together. My brother please help me through this journey for I am colored as well. My brother please get back up for this is not our last lash but our last time from staying down. Get up and show that racism is dead and we are not.

My hands tremble from the burden you give me. My time is taken from the burden you bestow upon many. My check is limited from the black coal you hold so dear. I clock in, I clock out. My back aches of misery and advil. I lye on my death bed waiting to realize that today, today I am awake, but far from alive..

Longing for a breath to fill my lungs, Waiting to stop my anxious hands, Hesitating my every move., Obfuscated on my very being. I  feel trapped inside myself, and stressed about the tomorrow. I wake up to realize that is just how life works...

Your heart is burdened with the chains of despair. The lock is attached to my ankles, rattling, dragging me along with you. My hand grasping for the soul I once knew, but now is long forgotten. My tears shed for the past but long for the future. Your eyes gleam in the light of infernal affinity. I am no longer the same boy, but forever your man.

It was you, it was you who stole my dreams.

One by one death takes its toll. In the worst times, death creeps in like a mouse finding its food. You try and prepare, and you,you think you're ready, but one by one death takes its toll.

Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live -Norman cousins

I see you through those bar windows, I feel the cold cuffs around my wrists, I feel the black stick hit me every time I watch you get arrested. You said we were family but I've never had family rat me out over bail. You said you were my ride for life but now you have a flat tire and in walking home tonight. I'm no mechanic, but I do know that you're totaled. Have fun in the okay pen, I'm going home.bro. See you on the other side.

Her body is my home. Sweet and warm. I can smell the beautiful fragrance of her perfume, and I can hear her soothing voice echo in my ears. Her vibrant smile reflecting off my thick glasses. She laughs at my corks and holds my heart. Her soft hands skim the surface of my cheeks and her personality makes me tremble to my weak knees. My goosebumps couldn't have come at a better time. I'm glad SHE is mine.

My words are tainted with the bitter taste of whiskey. My hands tremble in the presence of lies and abuse. I no longer sleep and I no longer eat. I am rested in death and filled with bad thoughts and inner demons. I can only suppress them with more alcohol and the slow burning cancer stick. I no longer am a poet but a drunken teen with no future.

I'm bounded by shackles, I'm locked in a cell and all I have is my dignity. I have high hopes for the next generation but first I have to look up from my phone. I have to unplug my shackles and delete my media. I have to meet people behind the thin screen of my curse and addiction.

Without a past there is no future, but without a future then there is no past, I guess that only means we can live in the moment.

I slip in a daze and I tip the *****. I throw my life in the garbage and my bottles on the night stand. I've had emotions until the bitter poison hit my blood stream. I'm nothing but a drunken mess.

I'm no poet

I wear my skin like a shirt, because I am not myself.

it wasn't the bottle that killed me, but the lies that wrapped around my throat as you said "I love you"

I thought you were done...

My heart is cold this is true, but it's not as cold as when you let go of it before giving it back. Not as cold as when you steeped it in what I thought was "love" and then peel back the plastic casing with a joking laugh. My heart is cold because you left it with no warmth. It's cold because I was left in the dark with no light and two options. My heart may be cold but it will never be as cold as the blade that ran through me for the last time. You can say it was suicide but it was never the same, because I've always felt dead around you, And I'm still apologizing for getting my cold hearted blood on your knife. Excuse me for my ignorance. I promise there won't be a next time.

I am no king. I am merely a shadow left in the dust from those who are burned from the flames of hate and poverty. I am no king. I have no jewels, I have no voice, I do not have a guard to defend me from the man who truly does have power. I feel pain and live a hell satan couldn't create. I am no king, so don't make me out to be one princess.

My hands tremble like an earthquake, my breath freezes in my own sorrow, my head spins like a merry-go-round. Some find it fun to ride and some fine it bitter and nasty. My feet can't even fit themselves so how can I fit anyone else's? I got rags on my back and a smile on my face but no one can tell the difference. I'm stuck in a hole with a rope and a blade so which one will I choose? I'm not smart enough to choose the rope because I guess I'm not bright,. It could be because my life has been in the dark and its what I'm used too, or it could be because my mind is tainted from the hell my parents have left me. I'm just waiting for it to freeze over like the cold hearted souls it affects.

The dark consumes me like the cold covers the night, the tears wash my blood as my blade only deepens the wound. The depression acts as a blanket when I need warmth. Suicide becomes a thought when I see no hope. My blade becomes a must to my problems. My belt becomes a nuce for my throat. My life becomes hell that I call home. Pain becomes the life I choose to live. The only thing keeping me alive is a friend. A very special friend that shows me pain identical to mine. So I choose to live in silence knowing others can feel my pain. I choose to live with her and one day we bwill show each others scars.... One day