In the middle of the day , my thoughts of better days.
Yet realizing the truth , days of hardships can be a blessing.
That it is during those hardship days that I cling to you the most.
That during these hardships, is when I see your protection.
So yes it is better at times to have those hardships reveal you.
The Savior, Protector , and God leading me to true Salvation.
For you are my true Source to a Greater Life spent here God.
I am so thankful for you as well, as the people you place in my life.
For you all have Blessed me beyond measure, I am so Blessed.

truth be told,
I am not that bold.
It is a jab into my eye,
a reality full of lies that my mom blames this distress.
Hold on, I can't tell black from white. Might as well be blind, I can predict even the scenic route that people doubt. My whereabouts are no longer in a crowd, standing with witnesses is unhealthy for me.
I want privacy, isn't being alone key anyways? Who is to care
if I write "Beware" or just  stare. In the end, there is this sentence left to bare. Always interpreting the language I so rarely speak. Energy may flow for others, but I am not a plug one can spark by lousy remarks.

She is beautiful beyond measure, excellence
She is gorgeously brilliant,
Her skin reflects the heavens dark canvas.
Her essence illuminates
like the stars lighting up the skies,
journeying across the galaxies many years away.
I backstroke deep within the depths of
her ******* celestial milky ways. Wet Misty ocean spray erupts, splashing all over my body and face.
Her u ni versal magic causes all kinds of havoc.
She ferociously drags me under submerging me, deep in her underwater ballot. Keggle rip currents pulling me deeper into the depths of her dark melanin hole.
Behold I can feel her heartbeat.
Exhale, with asthmatic like breathing as we engaged together, unified harmoniously simutainulously. I can feel the vibrations of her eccentric, electric current flow.
I plugged into her slow, submerging into her soul. Surging to converged as one, Matrimonial we shall dance forever from dawn to dust until death do us part.

Here I stand with my heart out,
I give it to you
Yet here is my future which stands empty without you
Here stands my life on the line,
life;
which is nothing worth living
more painful than the soul can fear, or mind can hide
More painful than giving out my pulverized heart
And receiving nothing in return*...

it’s hard to bring back
to life someone who’s
already a shadow suspended
by dust in sunlight.
a partially eaten heart
trailed by ******
bread crumbs with no
start in sight.
replications of
past complications
forge a plagiarized
grin notarized by a shaky
pen on abstract paper.
bringing back to life
sand-burnt knuckles
reflecting tremors
through coils in the bottle
seems anything but feasible,
recovery and relapse are
few and far between
with a fine line that
splits at the seam
without warning,
the ice meeting
the bottom of the glass
again is a slow
graze of fingernails
across chalkboards,
help seems out of reach
when the leather begins to
leech to your skin
with each question repeated
over and
over and ******* over,
perceptions of positivity
can only withhold the
constant of being
a placeholder in
the tangent of
consistencies,
but light has the ability to break
through windowsills
and curtains,
yes I speak from experience
because it’s the only thing
that wakes me up in the morning,
but as I become use to
walking dead
I found my light that
wakes me up
in the afternoon
and puts me to sleep
at night