It's been a little while since I tried this
self-therapy via words
that I won't share with anyone
but strangers near or far

a little while since my prose
got up from their beds
dusted off some cobwebs
and stretched their limbs

a little while since the black ichor
the ink that sometimes
bleeds out onto laptop keys
became mediocre poetry

and I get it, life's been hard
not too hard, but busy
not emotionally, but physically
and I didn't really need it

but I missed this
this little stretch of mental finesse
this warming up of metaphors
this cracking of poetic knuckles

Maybe this is what it's like to be understood.

Do you argue your point
To argue for love
Or do you argue
Just because
Do you really care
For every American out there
What are you truly fighting for
Helping the millions poor?
Or are you morphing with society
Doing things unjustifiably
Our hypocritical democracy
A nation full of dishonesty
Soldiers dying left and right
Parents send their kids to school with fright
But all we care about are insignificant things
I’m told, “the ends justify the means”
A country full of hate
Keeping people out because of race
American is so blessed
But most are too obsessed
Many can’t even imagine
How a nation like us can have no compassion
We do not know others lives
For we walk vigilantly in our opportunistic thrive
So forgetful of where we’ve come
For a God whos love cannot be undone
To give back what he gave us
Something we always fail to discuss
We blindly became a nation
Who has no purpose for its creation
Future president, can you do it?
Will you help us get through it?
Maybe you can change it someday
Please. Change us back to who we were yesterday.

I don't have elegant words
I'm not one to relate lips
To fresh picked strawberries

But I have feelings
They could deafen you
With their dial tone

And god I try to use them for good
But I end up finding the bad
In everything

I know you're a little rough
around the edges, I'm a bit
coarse on the inside

There are moments where
I question it all
I'm blind when you're not here

The simmer on my
hard-to-warm-up-to soul
slowly dissipates

I ought to learn to remind myself
It's okay to open up my thick skull
To let someone see what's underneath

But who's to say
I won't regret it
Like I have with every other
Gallivanting soul I've allowed
To muddy up my doorstep?