Writer's Block.
I can't seem to locate the right words to use.
I just need one small thing to spark my fuse,
And I guarantee I will blow your mind.
Currently my mind is in hibernation.
The chill outside gave my brain goosebumps.
It's a cold world.
Keep your hoodie on, but don't keep your hood up.
RIP Trayvon Martin.
The hood will leave you incapable of speech.
Must be the cause of my writer's Block.
Run on while you can make it out.
Runon sentences because I can't seem to make it out.
They say it's full of violence,
but these poems are my bullets.
Don't let those bullets attack your mind,
but you can't stop my ammo from flying at you,
I mean it's  windy  outside.
Those goosebumps that you feel right now, aren't from the cold
most likely from these words that flow.
You might want a cap so you don't catch hypothermia,
But does that matter because there's still a chance of a brain hernia...

Cruising down the road full of snow flurries
She clenched her wheel tightly because she was scared.
Scared that she might not see the moon again.
She was in love with the moon.
Every night she would write in her journal.
She was diagnosed with insanity
But in order for her to continue in society she had to write.
Everyday.
She wanted to prove she could still be okay
Everyday.
To her the snow was trying to keep her away from society.
So this was her fear
Everyday...

Can you get a glimpse of sunlight creeping from behind the trees?

Every beam squeezing in between the branched,

Desperately scavenging to find a home on the pavement.

Feeling unwanted but so bright with potential.

Being choked to death for its effort to find a place of rest

I want you to look at life from these glasses called my eyes.

People try so hard to hide behind these disguises

That they forget what they really look like

Trying to fool you for so long they begin to fool themselves.

Creating a false reality as if gravity does not exist

And everything they put up does not come back down

I see you and my day gets better.
You speak and all I hear are beautiful melodies.
When you smile I have to sit down.
A smile so bright, my legs lose their ability to stand.
As if my legs are my eyes.
Blinding and crippling.
This has never happened before.
You have to be supernatural.
Majestic, Amazing, Miraculous.
You hold yourself so well.
Perfect posture.
Calm and collected.
Can I hold you instead?
Rubbing my fingers through your hair would be like
Peter Pan flying.
It only happens in a fairy tale.
That would be enough for me.
I don’t know how to handle myself around you.
I stutter and I sweat.
Never knowing the right thing to say
To keep your attention.
Your eyes stun me as if you are Medusa.
I am your stone statue.
Eyes more beautiful than the Constellations.
Shinier than the North Star.
Are you the star I need to follow?
Your body speaks for itself.
Everything configured in perfect moderation.
Then you have the lips.
Supple and good for me.
I have never tasted anything so indescribably good.
Kiss of death.
Kiss me to death.

Here I lie
in your old room.
Building things
Where things were broken down.
Me
To be exact.
But let's not go into that.
You reappear
Time from time
In my mind.

It's been so long
Yet
your memory
is the strongest.
I don't know
What it is but
Only you
possess the power.

Some girls would die
For my attention.
But
You
Don't
even notice it.
I have so many options.
I wish
You
Were the only one.

To them
I'm nothing but a heart break.
I really do try.
They
bore me.
They
Adore me
I
Adore you.

I don't think we could ever be together.
We are too different.
But
That's what I love the most.

White walls.
Plenty of time,
Is what the boy thinks.
He can't swim
But he jumps in the pool
And hopes he doesn't sink.

The pool has white walls.
Blankness is what I see.
Being able to create what I want
I see things that others do not.
At least that is what I think.
To me they are ghost that haunt.

Me
I see myself
Not free
Sometimes
There are things
I cannot see.

White walls in the jail cells
But one wall is pure bars.
I am a caged beast.
Those people there
who call me friend
know me the least.

I say what I mean.
Do what I say.
As soon as I hear the beat.
I live for dreams.
The ones I cannot control.
Which is why I love to fall asleep.

On these walls I see my flaws.
My flaws create my past pain.
Looking at these walls keep me from changing.
200 years ago
I could have had it worse
And would have been slaving.

No I'm not Django
Or even Jamie Foxx.
I am more of a Jaden Smith.
Why?
Because they don't understand my drift.

But I do
That's all that really matters
Understanding self
First
Priority.

I may be jading quickly
Turning into a white wall.
Pale
Blank
Silent
Unless I express myself.