Sit right down, there's plenty of room
You'll see happiness and joy bloom
Squeeze in if you have to, we're all family here
There's more than just us, we're far and near
It's fine if you don't know everyone's name
You're part of the family all the same

Are you hungry?  Don't hesitate to say
Take some for later if you're going your own way
There's plenty here for everyone
Stick around, we're sure it will be fun
It's fine if you don't know everyone's name
You're part of the family all the same

Are you staying, or just stopping by?
We might ask, but you don't have to say why
There's always a place for you here
So stop by and see us again next year
Any ideas of being a loner, of yourself disavow
Because you're part of the family now

In twenty days I will be back in Georgia

and I will feel the cold air pierce through my lungs as I stroll through the streets of downtown Atlanta

I will hear the sound of thick, southern drawls singing country songs by a diminished campfire, releasing the smell of burning leaves and Tennessee whiskey

I will see my grandmamas gaze as she welcomes me home with a *** of steaming Jambalaya and White Diamonds perfume

And my sweet souls will smile at me with their crooked teeth that look like mine
They will approach me with their fast paced walks that move like mine
They will laugh at me with innocence, light, and love

Their simple love  
their pure, loyal love
The kind of love that liberates
The kind of love that frees me
from the solitude I hold
So deeply within myself

And I will return to my little apartment
on the eastside of the city

with a memory of enlightenment
With a memory of gratitude
With a memory of grace

To shower you in
To nurture you with
To guide you to
The clear light of day

I think we were born to be

a purple red tangerine smile

You make me speak out loud

Baby, you taste like innocence  

When you kiss me with your eyes

And make me love you

Enough to grow old



In our revelations of ecstasy

You reminded me of the angel in my soul

Instead of the woman who I turned out to be

A mellow euphoria of eternal light

I think we were born to be

a purple red, tangerine smile

You make me speak out loud

My sweet honey

You’ve become my home.

I can still see you and your Crowne Royal sitting on your throne after drowning in the tequila sunrise you left behind yesterday morning
You are my home, you are my salvation
You are my hell, you are my damnation
And I realize I can’t heal you.

It’s March now and you’ve been drowning in your sorrow for ten months, praying she can keep you from reaching the bottom of your bottle
She is your home, she is your salvation
She is your hell, she is your damnation
And she realizes she can’t heal you.

She isn’t like the woman you’re used to
She doesn’t have that plump, patient, strawberry smile and wide eyes with a wolf howl in her throat
She doesn’t have that serenity and solitude, walking out of the kitchen with Tennessee whiskey and dried up roux on her apron towards her white Pickett fence, reminiscing on the days when the walls were made of barb wire

She doesn’t have her freedom when she roams, barefoot in nothing but your long ***** flannel as she calls the babies in for supper, kicking up red Georgia clay towards the Milky Way sky

But she’s a somebody
She’s a somebody with her long, fake eyelashes curled up towards the ceiling and her plumped up lips with a price tag on her Cupid’s bow

She’s a somebody who’s hair falls flat in the morning, and even though she doesn’t know what it’s like to pull twigs out of her curls when she wakes up after dancing around with you in the barn at three o clock, laughing in whispers so her babies don’t hear her

I love her

And I hope that she at least believes she can heal you
And I hope that I at least believe she can heal you
And I hope that one day, you reach your hands up to heaven and remember what it’s like to hold the heart of God on a Sunday morning, and be forgiven

And I hope that you’ll believe that he can heal you
Because he is our home, he is our salvation
He is our hell, he is our damnation
And one day, I know he will heal you.

He knows me by my first name

The boy who works at the drugstore

near the end of the street.

When I shovel out the crumbled twenty from my left pocket
he doesn’t even bother to say


Will that be all-
Or
Which pump are you at -


His simple smile spreads across his face,

And he calls me by my first name-

I am no longer the girl at the drugstore

near the end of the street.

Four walls through a first person point of view.



That’s how I saw it, laying in the center of the empty room on the bamboo floor board my daddy laid.  



Staring at the ceiling, tracing the corners with raw and broken eyes.



I would be the last person to leave this place, and rightfully so. The last person to say goodbye. The last person to lock the door, and let the house go.



Four walls through a first person point of view. I spoke to the woman inside of my bones gently, as my voice cracked for the last time.



In this room, I became a warrior. In this room, I became a woman. In this room, I became a writer. In this room, I became a wanderer.



Four walls through a first person point of view.  I carried the weight of the world with me as I walked out that door.

the cold light of day reigns:
concrete, metal, glass, towers
the "system" turns humans into numbers
new york city is full of giant rats

pregnant with the outflow of frustration
in the moonlight, their teeth twinkle
bloodred maws, spiky fur, darkgrey
i don't want to become a rat

"you gotta keep a sense of human"
a quote by earl simmons, a.k.a. dmx
lord, gimme shelter, gimme strength
bornheim, germany, yonckers, usa

regardless where we are; who we be
this line hugs my son nicholas,
and i do love eden, my daughter
THEY ARE LIFE. THEY KEEP A SENSE OF HUMAN.

i'm max, and i'm not trapped in placelessness
gotta stay clean, will meet my kids again
trance is not life, it's the aberration of escape
my weakness is my strength, i got it in me

like a greenly glowing marble of hope  
drugs don't change the world, but you
as i was laying in a puddle of sweat,
i prayed to god: "pleeeease let me live"

couldn't breathe for a moment, fear of death
the addiction for the trance brought me there
i gotta keep a sense of human; for myself
i gotta keep a sense of human; for my kids

I am searching for a literary agent who would assist me in publishing my poetry compilation if you know anyone please send me a message, including their contacts

Thank you