My poetry has potency
I listen to my words

and know it's me
growing in the never ending curse,

of feeling and not showing it
a lesson never learned,

to let go of the echo
when I’m feeling so unsure.

Blurring every line
that I’m toeing up,

looking way behind
and like throwing up,

the person that I was
wasn’t old enough,

to see the stuff
that I’ve done and just slow it up,

I just really wanna hit him,
and tell him the fear is there,

because you let it be
and life won’t be fair.

I know that no one told you,
they were never there.

But here is where you are now
so you better care.

It’s okay to take a moment
hocus pocus on my focus,

theres magic in the habits
that have brought me to my lowest.

Growing by the moment,
yet stuck inside emotions,

the motions that I’m going through
expose a man thats soulless.

It’s like some heavy mass in the center of yah chest
But you can walk without losing any breath.
A black hole that’ll crush all the meat and bone.
Pulling all the nerves till it collapses on it’s own.
Forever lasting blasting dark thoughts into yah head.
Questions form about the dead.
How will you die if you fry not in a pan
but on pavement or asphalt from a car accident.
Will I burn to death or die from pain.Obscure questions all the same.
It hurts a little, bluntly.
All the sudden it ends abruptly.