******* are itches like skin conditions
forget the admissions and feelings and visions
find yourself in a position where decisions
are void, because there's no choice,
no recognition, my voice is an imposition

With no occupation, or real reason to function
I'll spend my money on medication 'til
I'm believing what I'm seeing
Something is weighing on my mind heavy,
roll up another blunt-skin,
crack open another bevy,
Something is playing with my mind lately,
just write a couple bars
Yeah, that'll tell them nothing maybe

My hopes were up, but they have come down
It's too often we carve a smile out of a frown
just to fit in
           when we were born to stand out
So as a rule tell others how you feel,
not let em figure out
Honesty's my policy, unless I think they're on to me
and now I've lied again
I better turn my life around
In a short life, I've been much, I've been proud
I've been up, I've been down,
I've been chewed and spat out
Left out in the sun, left out to dry up on the ground

But all the aspirations that I'll never meet,
can be recycled to ambition if I get back on my feet,
But all the things I was promised, that's deceit
the act or practice of deceiving,
concealment or distortion of the truth,
for the purpose of misleading, so they got me bleedin'
and everything I want, I'm not receiving
and everything I need, I know they're keeping

Below is the link to my 2nd book, can't believe I just said that but I'll appreciate if all of you would read it. It's just some of my most personal writings. Even if you don't read it,  thanks even for considering it

https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/166651348-coming-of-age-the-growth-from-a-boy-to-a-man

I  don’t mean to compare,
Past and the present,
It’s just a game I play,
What-ifs of my existence,
I have a vivid imagination.

I am sans the thoughts,
That makes it appropriate,
The wordplay, I indulge in,
I am sans the guilt,
Of the aftermath it brings.

Many are held captive ,
More are repulsed,
The gears in action,
Churning, burning ,moving,
I keep going on.

I don’t mean hurt,
I see, you are enraged now,
It’s where I stop the play,
It’s not a test or measure,
These are just stories,
So hear me now .

Once upon a time, Oh but that’s such a boring way to start-
                                                          ­                       Once upon a time.
I was little red riding hood that knowingly stepped
                              onto the wrong side of the path,
Hoping that a monster in the woods
                                              would come and get me, but you-
A hurricane,
           car crashes in slow motion,
                              personified heartbreak-
                                                     ­                    Too much.
Too much applesauce madam? The waiter asked, clean-shaven face bathed
            In the New York skyline, ignorant to the gunfire explosions
                          inside me as I waited for you.
                                                            ­                No thank you, sir.


     “Meet me at the station”,
                                scrawled in messy, love- stained letters
In between the railway roars and the clatters of foreign accent, you've flaked again, like the struck chord of a bass
                        Signifying disappointment like a punch line
                                    Reverberating through my skull.
             Okay, repeat the mantra, one-two-steady-
                                                 ­                                     Okay. It's Okay.

Four weeks later
                                   I had your body pushed up flush against bricks and-
No shut up you don’t get to say anything after you go and shatter me like that
You’re sick do you know that? Lips snarling, heart breaking.  

You’re sick.
So maybe I was the big bad wolf after all.
                   Stairwell bricks glinted off iridescence and
                                                       your mouth in that sad, sad laugh
Studying me like a dream brought
                                                         ­                  to the ground,
Puffy lipped and eyes blown wide like I was on some psychedelic high-
            And you said
                               “You’re still a child with fanciful ideas of love, and the way you cling onto them-
                            Quite frankly, it’s terrifying.”
                                                   ­  Please darling, let me redefine myself
Skip the pleasantries and small talk,
                     scrap the story of little red riding hood-

Once upon a time, I was apology and you were forgiveness
I can imagine inside you, of alarm bells and sunken souls
                 as you listen to the static white noise of
                                                              ­            A dying heart
Hello darling, are you there? Can you hear me? Is this mic working?
          I hate to sound like those magazine cut outs-
                                                           ­         I hate to sound like,
Just another lover, just another cliché-
                                       But you were the matchstick to my dynamite
                                                                ­            and nothing feels better
Than my own self- destruction, so won’t you please
                     Another chance? No?
                                Even Lucifer sometimes longs to be let
                                                      Into the gates of heaven again
I’ve cooked some apology,
          I saved a plate for you

So for the love of god come inside and have some before it goes cold.

Up high in the tower
In somewhere it's hidden
A withering flower
For a heartbroken maiden

As petals fall
From up to the floor
Memories I recall
Of moments out the door

As blue as the sea
His eyes would glisten
Handsome he may be
He still wouldn't listen

With words I was swayed
With the voice of a prince
Promising he would stay
Was enough to convince

But another flower appeared
And he stared to abandon
A situation I feared
Has already happened

With word I tried to woo
With the voice of a maiden
Wishing something I could do
To win back his affection

But as blue as the sea,
His eyes may glisten
As handsome he may be
He still wouldn't listen

The withering flower
In my hand I hold
Up here in the tower
With my story untold

And as petals fall
In such a late hour
Memories I recall
From the floor to the tower