Has their ever been an original thought?
I swear everything I say
Has either been broken, stolen, or bought.
And I rot with the shame of it,
Feeling I falsely carve in my name.
I’m trying to find the right path
On this road to fame,
Citing a hundred-plus peeps a day,
Though on the real,
Those just the ones I can name.

In this game,
These bouncing ***** just                            on back,
                                                      bounce
My eyes are bouncing,
I’ll get the knack.
The frame constructed
Of things to come,
My vision obstructed,
Well, isn’t this fun?

Embody your original self, dismay your fake self.

Unearthly bliss
Was the sound
Of tidal waves
Crashing against her bare hips.

The curve of her lips
As she sang
With eyes closed.
Eighth notes ignited
Like a crisp fire
During the stinging cold

My love-
She is a hurricane
Of violent passion and
extraordinary strength

My Beloved,
Embrace me with
Golden arms
And tell me
All of the different ways
That you fell in love.

I see your mom more than I see you
It wasn't supposed to end like this
After all you put me through
It's 11:11 and you're still my wish


Tears fall slowly down my face
I end up wiping them on my bed
I was able to give you space
I guess these truly are the words never said

The memory of this moment,
As I look upon your face,
As you look up to me,
Your head resting on the squabs;
The sun shine between the blinds,
And birds sing morning's song,
Will stay with me until
My heart no longer throbs.

I know you are the one,
My only everything.
All I could ever want to hold
Is here, in my embrace.
I feel the tide is turning
In favor of morning's song,
As I gaze into your eyes,
And passion is in it's place.

There is no unworthy burdon
You bring to my door.
No echoes of regret.
I need for nothing more.

The errand of my heart
Is to give into your light,
To give you all I am.
You are my paradise.

Just like a flower
take your time
soaking up
the brightness
of the sun
and bloom
into a ripe
mature fruit
seducing
the Adams of the
world

Some people take comfort in labels
Finding which little box to fit in
Knowing just by a glance, by a hashtag, a stance
That others can see what's within
Some people rely on their labels
On things that tell them who they are
That simplify life into boxes of white
Scribbled meaning stuck onto their jar
Now some people, they run from all labels
Afraid that they hold them down  
And losing their minds to a few words and lines
In social adhesive are bound
See people forget that their labels
Are choices, not simply assigned
Meanings can change and symbols rearrange
By those by whom they were designed

So friend, take back charge of your labels
Because You create them in the end
And if labels align, well that would be fine,
But remember that you hold the pen.

|b.g.|