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Jay Jan 24
Yo,
Yeah you,
Brother, best friend.

I'm doing just fine.

I'm tending to those curls my mother gave me
And yeah, honey, I can still rhyme.

You can call me daddy
Actually, call me sir
But nothing will ever compare you to her.

Yeah.
We was cool.
Totally.
I didn't care that he was on your phone.
Not even on your mind.
I just want you to know it hurt when you lied.

At least a thousand times.

But it's cool, little one,
Cuz so did I.

I just hope he appreciates that miracle on your thigh.

Spit in my face.
Whatever, it's easy to see u don care.

But sincerely, cute thing.
Love gets you nowhere.

Tell the world-
The ******* Galaxy for all I care.

But when I needed a real woman;
My person,
You weren't there.

If you think that I care who you're *******,

You're wrong,
As long as I'm still walking art
*******

I'm strong.
Jay Oct 2018
Is it any wonder that black cats
perch on pale shingles
or that the moon returns each
evening against a stark navy sky

What’s it like to be the center of attention?

I exist only in shadows
and bloom viciously
against the wall at parties.
A secret garden.

Poisonous frogs
stick out like candy against
forests of green.
They dare to be noticed as
unapologetic warnings.

If only I could feel the spotlight
burn a hole through my lonely chest
just once. Like rays of sun
that exist just for my well being.

How does it feel to be someplace you don’t belong?

Cancer grows
multiplies
splits apart, doubled over
a thousand times
with little regard for it’s unwelcomed
stay.
Fearless.

I spiral down vacant bottles
only to shatter through the bottom of each one
in the hunt for genuine human connection.
An insecurity that is nothing but confident in itself.
I crave to be noticed.

Is it any wonder that black cats
perch on pale shingles?
Jay Oct 2018
I'm in the mood
to press you

coffee
bitter sweet
chocolate drizzle
whipped cream.
Savory on your tongue.

Too bad I'm out of filters.

The steam warms my lungs.
A fresh breath of you starves off the cold. You speak and words spill out of your mouth like a ******* messiah. I grasp the chalice of your lips and swill the infinity of combination between my teeth. Twenty-six letters taste like gold. Milk and honey. Christmas Dinner. The thought of fingers burning poetry against my skin makes me sweat.

It's fall. Big surprise I'm thinking of you.
When the leaves tremble in winds that sting. I imagine you doing the same and I'm seduced by the thought. It would be so nice to know the veins of your form. To feel your fragility in intimate terms. To fold you over between the pads of my fingers- find your weak spots. Lines plowed in skin from desperate fingernails leave trenches perfect for warfare. I turn you up from your clavicles to your ankles.

Maybe it doesn't have to be so violent.
Maybe it can just be cold
and we can enjoy the intimacy
of a night on the porch
with a big blanket.

We'll ***** down
*****
to our souls.

You can sit in my lap
and I can swim in your eyes
while we both manage
to stay warm under the stars
and the comfort
of
twenty-six
letters.
Jay Aug 2018
I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.
Jay Aug 2018
Skin on skin is nice isn't it?
Jay Jul 2018
Would it be better
if I hid everything
underneath a metaphor or simile?

Like thick suffocating blankets
that muffle my true meaning and stamp out light,
leaving you clutching at wisps
of air-
untangling what I'm trying to say?

Would it be best if I told you the truth
and said that you use your hair effectively
as a weapon?
A cluster of ever-changing colored swirls
where I can spiral into my own personal
****.

Your arms
are millions and millions
of jellyfish-
soft, passive, dangerous.
Inviting.
I've never wanted to be cradled more.

Do you want me to promise
that I still think about the cataclysmic
infinity of your emerald eyes?
A Garden of Eden.
If I believed in God,
I'd say Adam and Eve took comfort
within them. And just like Adam and Eve,
realize what it feels like to be cast out.
When love became punishment.
When rules were broken.
When there was nothing left to feel
but loneliness and shame.
Jay Jul 2018
God,
Just show me you're real.

I'm so tired of
you thinking that just being
a body is enough.

Show me something
meaningful.

It's easy to swipe right.
It's easy to say things you don't
mean to say.

It's obviously easy to say,
"I love you."

It's easier not to say anything at all.

Individuality.

I'm meaningless.
And so are you.

A construct of circumstance.
Biology.
Human nature.

Thank you for your lessons.
I hope somebody proves me wrong.
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