The life of a lonely poet...

A product of the moving circus,
a round of games in endless circles;
I'm still searching for purpose with a pocket
full of dreams, and old family curses.

That's me; like the tree of my family;
quick to leave when there's no options after plan B.
On a money diet; counting ribs of poverty,
in these busy restaurants; dreaming to swipe for meals
with my eyes closed honestly.
It's been so long; since I've been in a space of thought
were I actually belong.
Been a minute since I've written for so long; that the words
flow into a song.

The life of a lonely poet...

The skies of his life; turns a different shade of blue,
as he sees everything so beautiful in a different view.
The oceans must have kissed the tips of the sky;
all of which happens inside of his mind.
"I've got sometime to write," he tries to make the most of it,
over some work wi-fi.

Writing about a wife with his talented hand;
a love, a tradegy, a dream; mostly writing about
the things he kind of has or had.
Past tense; into future tense, but the present tense;
are all things being so intense.

The best painters of love, are those not in love,
just a picture in their head of love's sort of.
"I kind of; know how it feels,"
but a lonely poet is just writing to the audience's appeals.

Is anything real?

The life of a lonely poet...

So vicious; like the bites of those rough
kisses. That sinking bite on the lips, of a longest kiss.
So wet as two sinking ships; as the kisses are so deep.
He wishes he was writing for a physical Miss,
and having her straight after; and the taste of her lips.

Oh what a life of a lonely poet...

You miss two or three celebrations, buy incentives, you beg me to come.
Meet and greet with brothers really different, we be bearing arms.
My family be at the table talking ****,
guess that's the price of love.
Putting money in his pockets, but I'm stressed, so here goes a dub.
For years, been writing page after page just to get a head nod.
Stay out the streets, get killed, or suffer;
my reason for over night jobs.
Trying not to rob.
I've always dropped the ball so I gave it to God.
Hanging out the window with my stick, we was out in Cobb.

I wanted to be in the league when I grew up.
I wanted to be in the streets when I grew up.
I wanted to be like bro when I grew up.
I wanted all the hoes when I grew up.

I wanted to be like my daddy when I grew up.
I wanted my own family when I grew up.
I wanted to free my cousin when I grew up.
I wanted to make it out when I grew up.

Never knew what love meant, I had to grow up.
I never knew how to vent, I need to grow up.

I was acting like a little boy, I had to grow up.
I be feeling like a lonely child, I gotta grow up.

the steel blue of your eyes fixated on me
like my presence was a gift in itself
the calloused tips of your fingers
grazing over my skin and pulling me close
you held me like nothing else mattered
as if time itself had stopped and given us this moment

the good morning messages and the evening calls
we fell asleep together even when we weren't
your subtle snores down the phone
replacing the heartbeat i'd hear resting on your chest
but sometimes we'd stay up until the sun broke through our windows
not regretting a moment of lost sleep

the walks along the common no matter the weather
to that place by the playground where we'd lie and spot planes
and you'd laugh and say it wasn't a competition
but we both knew that was only because you were losing
the same grass upon which you took the picture of a flower in my hand
it's wearing away but you still keep it in your wallet

your dogs jumping up and greeting me at the door
and your mother's smile when she sees me enter
us playing football with your brother in the garden
and laughing over slow motion replays of goals scored
i felt so at home in your home
as if your family was mine, like there was a special place for me

now i'm left wondering what to do
how am i meant to fill this enormous void
of the life that we had molded together
you had become a part of me
and i don't know how to separate it and become whole on my own

i miss the bare minimum that you gave me
i waited on every text
relished every call
and every time our eyes met i fell in love all over again
i was completely and utterly devoted to you
to loving you
to making sure you felt loved

but now i don't even have the cradle of your voice
or how held i felt when we locked eyes
and the warmth of your embrace

you've left me cold and unsheltered

but i would still give you the shirt off my back
if i noticed your shiver
and i still answer every text
every call
because even though i'm not what you want
you're still everything