Everyone is living their fairytale
While I’m living in hell
Come back to me already
Let's make this right
Mend this hole and close it tight
No one has to ever know
The deep cuts created
The harmful words spoke
Let’s go back to the way things were
Before you shattered my heart
Before everything between you and me fell apart

Dreamsicle Mournings:
I mourn your
Warnings.
Early Mornings:
A thorn in my
Rosary-
I’m stuck on the
Same prayer.
I’ve torn my
White wings-
Forever falling.
Forlorn for
Rosemary.
God, get me
There.

Take me back to the month of June, 
when my only worry was not waking the whole house
when trying to catch the fleeting beauty of the sunrise.
 
Nothing but wild locks of brunette and
gold intertwining to make a perfect wave.
Constantly being told I smelled of salt,
but to me it was more like freedom.
 
My feet always raw from burning sand,
raw from weathering shells.
Sweet feelings, new wavelengths;
lips sticky from the chocolate milkshake.
 
No closed toed, wool lined attire in sight,
but instead surf tees and ripped jeans.
Bottle caps were collectables,
Bud Light Lime still resonates on my tongue.
 
I’ve been trying so hard to find my old self,
until I realized I had sadly let it slip away;
just like the sun does
beneath the horizon on those endless summer days.

But,
I know the windows will soon be down
and the sun will rise again,
just as I will.

Can we go back...to where life met laughter. To when love had more value than fame. To how we used to respect those who came before us. And family extend far beyond the limits of your doorsteps. Can I get back to a gap toothed smile and fill em in puzzles. To puff bread and pecan candy. To walking my hanging with the homies at Dunbar. Who want to go back to walking from Oak St to Wakefield. Playing ball at Centennial Park, East end community center and MLK Elementary. Somehow I've wipped away a lot of my memory, however, I'll never forget my homies playing their makeshift drum set and me winking at their sister behind their back. Childhood crushes right. I have erased dates and events but the way you all have influenced me is engraved in me like the chiseled details on Donatello sculptures. I just want to go.....

Pull me back
to your solitude.
To your never ending waves.

Pull me back-
I’ll stay. I’ll swim through you.

So,
My shirts are ragged and I
Drink too much on many occasions and I
Often reek of cigarettes and untold lies and I
Can't seem to keep myself steady for more than a minute but
I

Can write a love poem that'll make you go to pieces
And I
Will calculate the distance to the stars and find out how to launch you there
And I
Won't rest until I see it completed.

Sure, I
Can't control a sentence for more than a few words and I
Barely know my thoughts and I
Am a rambling, insecure mess and I
Don't know where I came from, but
I

Can help you find a home here amongst the shadows,
And bellow out your name so it infinitely echoes

My friend , everyone started this journey alone,
Which is the greatest gift of Lord-
Use it to the fullest,not to make moan;
But rather: to write on the book of hearts, your own chord!

It all started with the dream world,
Where existed no word called lazy;
Where life hadn't its true colours unfurled.
We were nothing but crazy!

Those were the beautiful moments of childhood,
When we knew how to live without being taught.
Please take me back in time if you could,
Before the clutches of the cruel world have me bought!

It could still be the same, you know;
We were the ones to get this complicate-
This soul is the same, we just physically grow.
Don't let the gray world fade your glory too, mate!

Forget what people say, you have the power to dream,
It's time to break the mental bars;
Don't stop your heart, let it scream-
It states the desire to shine out like stars!

Maybe I never find a place
For this heart so misfit.
So, I fill pages after pages with my grace-
To learn to live again,bit by bit!

If I could escape,
I would go to a place -
A place that’s not far,
but a place that is rare.
The place filled with black-eyed susans
and wild orange lillies.
There’s buckets of rain water
and spider plants inside.
Daisies and hostas line the porch
where that green swing hung.

My feet were always too short,
so Dad had to help
keep that swing swaying
while I watched the beautiful blonde.
She had brown eyes and a kind smile.
That woman was my mom.

We kept all the flowers pretty.
All together, my little family,
     We were so happy.