You aren’t the first to come and sit beside me
On this couch.
Others have come before you
And have left their imprint.

I do hope that you’re the last to walk in
And stay.
The way you smile
and lean back against the cushion,
You stare at me and smile as if asking, what?

The past imprints are meaningful.
Some are deeper than the last that sat
Where you’re sitting now.
I’ve learned a lot from them.
Sometimes their ghosts still
Walk in and smile.
Before stepping back out.

It’s funny how well I thought I knew myself,
Until I realized I didn’t.
But without them,
I wouldn’t have learned more about myself.
About what I needed to change,
What I needed to let go,
How to hold you
without readying myself to say goodbye afterwards.

When you first walked in,
You reminded me of them.
The ghosts that walked in
and kept me company for a minute.
To be honest, I counted the minutes until you said goodbye.
I don’t count anymore.
I’ve gotten used to sitting here
on the couch with you.

A thick bar or a small orb
A pebble or a globe
The sight of brunette or umber
A soft mocha or a syrup

A stuffing or solid
The taste of hard work
It's a bean no longer,
need of peel.

Flavor so rich and full,
Money can buy but not feel.

Why are you here
I wish you could disappear
see a life full of pain you choose to fill it with fear
She saw the light in the dark she stopped and stared for a year
Riding a car without a wheel and you expect me to steer
I hope you close the door
Feelings are way too sacred
was born without a heart you made me one filled with hatred
killed before I could smile in my mothers eyes
was reincarnated into a baby full of lies

Why are you here is there even a reason
Gave me a book made by a racist to believe in
gave me words just to use for deceiving
Millions of kids who grow up to be negligent leaders
Blame you for my mother being addicted to beer
Then be blamed by the man who's father caused these tears
It's just senseless violence,
nobody going anywhere but heaven
you the reason I've dreaming bout death since the age of seven
infact they're nightmares I stare blankly at the wall
And trauma builds when you're hearing them fight with no one to call
Fell down a well now im a ghost who seek revenge
spend my peace spreading violence to another genertion

I went to bed last night
With a little square of chocolate,
And woke up with
chocolate sheets --

To write
Do i need to share
The Shakespearean blood
To be seen

What is the first thing you see
Once your eyes lay up on me
The light in my heart?
Or the will piercing through my eyes

No
You notice the darkness
That surrounds my skin
Pigment in the darkest pitch

As the space
That surrounds the moon and its stars
Surrounds my toes to my face
An illusion quite bizzare

As the night blends with me
And sunshine reveals to me,
The stereotypes begin to rise
You only judge the sight

You ignore the beauty in the unknown
That I may be made of black gold
I wear chains that do not carry my name
If you take them, am i to blame

I carry no hate
The rainbow in skin reveals fate
I wish you to see
That color does not define me

Am I really a good person?
I have a moral voice, but is it mine?
Was it forced upon me or given as a gift?
Am I just Objectively good and emotionally bad?
Or the other way around?
Was it simply the song I grew up hearing in my head and never forgot?
Was I simply brain washed into being moral?
Am I really that moral or have I just been around it my whole life?
Or - was no one around me truly moral and I was the opposite?
Is that why I've never understood their morals?
What if I'm so good at lying to myself that I don't even know it?
What if I die, and my soul is the bad part of me?

my love hate relationship with chocolate –
cause I really love that it tastes so good,
but hate that there’s never enough, or the
need for me to be sharing it. and to such
a treat, we are slaves; when asked what I
need the most between sugar and life –
I need both.

as I endure the whispers of a late snack –
telling chocolate to meet me at midnight;
even when you tell me too much of it is
unhealthy, please let me love the pleasure,
and let me live with the possibility of having
a few less teeth.

it’s my favourite treat, that if you bought it
for me; I’d do a favour for you in a moment’s
heartbeat – as my heart beats for such a
chocolate feast; I can’t help this chocolate heat.