Someone else can write my story
once I have finished living it
and through its brilliance it has claimed my life.

Im fine
Im fine
Im fine
Im alright
Im 100 percent fine
Im fine
Im fine
Imineimfineimfine
Im fine
No really im fine
Im lovely
Great
Perfect
*maybe if i say it enough it will be true

Music was my refuge.
I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness








~Maya Angelou

Tired of runnin’
And fussin’
And sparin’ the details.

We got it good now,
A house, a family, you can go to school.
You won’t learn about us, baby,
They don’t give lessons on strange fruits.

The road derails, your smile retains:
Hope.
I pray you’ll never see blood on the leaves.

In visions of the dark night
        I have dreamed of joy departed-
      But a waking dream of life and light
        Hath left me broken-hearted.

      Ah! what is not a dream by day
        To him whose eyes are cast
      On things around him with a ray
        Turned back upon the past?

      That holy dream- that holy dream,
        While all the world were chiding,
      Hath cheered me as a lovely beam
        A lonely spirit guiding.

      What though that light, thro' storm and night,
        So trembled from afar-
      What could there be more purely bright
        In Truth's day-star?

Windowless, shadowless, fluorescent a room and schoolyard scent. A lecture on earth's composure rumbled on as thunder sounded when I need not know where my toes were. Terrestrial topography in the row marked 2 or 3. The hierarchy of "figured out" and inane diplomacy, but I was feeling fine. I was sitting alone and still and looking at the morning faces. I left spaces left and right so I could swallow my mind and wrap up tight in the vacuum allowed. The collided waveforms hit my selective ears. I'll see you next week. I'll see you next week. My knees are weak and I'm writing the words I don't know how to speak and writing the rhythm, the subject I so often treat poorly, write off as a cliche archetype made for the gullible, penned by the phony. Yet I can't wait. A nervous anxious wonder I can't shake, like a beautiful sun gliding over a closing wake with the wind on its back and a ship to take.

Ocean water wash up my feet,
Chilly rough sand underneath,
Behind me a torturous pit,
Within me a burning seat;

Onwards i'll be with the stars,
At will visiting venus and mars,
Away from the hurts and scars,
From his cruelty and lies;

I have finally closed the door,
To hurting me anymore,
From now i'll forever soar,
But not dragged on the floor;

I gave my heart, he took it all,
I was rend apart, he made me fall,
But now i run, i will not crawl,
my past i burn, i regain it all;

I have made a solemn choice,
No more silence to my voice,
If i will, i'll make a noice,
And stand in confidence and poice;

I will win and never loose,
Although i suffered hatred and abuse,
I'll put myself to reasonable use,
And watch my achievements reproduce.

Much poetry
May fade quickly
From memory.
Though there are such
That move us much,
Our souls do touch.

Catch us off guard
Or strike a chord,
Our hearts reward.
Some witty, wry
Some make us cry
Or wonder why.

Others inspire
Dreams and desire,
Ignite a fire.
Many appeal
for they are real,
They make us feel.

The truly great
Reverberate,
They resonate.

Many people rip on me for my “not-so-great” luck with Women.
But, jokes on them.

I’ve had some ***** before.

Until I had to get rid of them after I discovered I was allergic to felines.