me, you and Hennessy.
me, you this Hennessy.
three different people, one night...
this one night...
I swear this is about to turn into a piece about how we three came together with these trees, lit..
you, me ..this Hennessy talking to me baby and I've been thinking about you.
right now I'm about to let this henny talk , see I've been watching you tonight.. this night, stargazing ....you me, falling for the moon..the stars.. baby this is where we are, me in between your legs, thighs rubbing on my neck , warmth on my ears.. This is me, you and where we're meant to be...together us three..


me you this Hennessy lets get acquainted, the henny speaks to me and I to you, you could call henny the wing because once Richard got that whiff he's never been able to say no to nights with you. Richard got a whiff, his fix, the aroma.. my god, blaspheme i apologise , speaking in tongue, my tongue in your ear, mouth, neck, *******, naval back to your *******, Richard lost track of time he has got to dip but still he stands at attention...minutes gone by forgetting the whiff he once caught, slowly going down, tying his shoes looking up to you on one knee, that whiff, your *****... he has to dip but watching you drip ? the henny, the devil on his shoulder whispered to him " devour her, eat at her soul, speak in tongues , spell her name with your tongue, make her see stars because under the stars, that's where it all began.. us stargazing , stars gazing , you dazing... daisies. day in day out you , me and this Hennessy ...pure bliss.

Your go to guy
When you can't find the words to say
Cause people are too much
And the world is not enough
And you're trying to keep sane
And you're afraid to **** it up
But aren't we all
A little stuck
A bit overwhelmed
A little lost

Feeling indifferent
A 40 oz and promethazine still haven't put me to sleep
I wish I could clear my mind so I put smoke in my lungs real deep
I try to pray but can't get on my knees
I'm not Muslim or Protestant
No Jesus or Allah in my life
Just pain that cuts like a knife
Alcohol is the solution but the main problem
The answers, I will never solve em
My mom died because of that
I drove drunk and can't go back
What to do now,
My heart turned black
RIPped in two by a Hennessy bottle
Now my mom's gone all that's left is hurt
I should of gone, why did she get to go first
My life has been cursed since birth
Always think of leaving this Earth
I haven't been to heaven but I'm living in Hell
Somedays I contemplate suicide and saying farewell
But **** keeps moving
Life hasn't stopped
Even if I'm in a dark hole because I fell
I'm not an angel, demons are all around
I feel their presence more then Moms
When I call her name I don't hear a sound
But that's expected, there's no such thing as being resurrected
I cry inside but my eyes don't water, even after all my sorrow
The worst feeling is guilt and that always is to follow
Simple words to complex emotions
If my tear glands worked I could fill the oceans
But instead I look at you with a cold stare
No happiness here but who would really care?
Drunk driving so yea it was my fault
I should be dead instead of writing this ****** poem drinking a malt
Another cigarette, yea it helps
On top of that I might have a kid
My baby's mother is a ugly, horrible thought
Can't remember how or when we ******
Maybe it was the Hennessy, that must be it
I had 10k and an Audi I bought
Dropped the top and my mom flew out
And now all I do is ***** and pout
Try to cry but it never comes out
Then some family talks bad & threatens to **** me
Wish it wasn't just words because it'd make my day
Wonder if this feeling will ever go away
I wish I had someone to talk to but they all disappeared
**** the police for the lies that the jury believed
I really do wish, I was never conceived
My childhood friends are all doing 15+ for crimes that were and were not committed
Unlike my stupid father who deserves his sentence
Trying to **** my grandmother the day after my mom passed
All my life I hated him for not wearing a rubber or not being around to give gifts on Christmas
But now I hate him for not shoving that **** up his ***
If there was god, my life was made because it *******
Maybe you wonder about what indifferent means
All it means is I lost hope..but mainly lost any hope of giving a ****
That was the quick version but to sum it up
I'm cursed with forever with bad luck

Empty bottles of coke
faithfully littering the floor around my
desk, bed, anything they can lay their hands on.
A naive combination of sleeping pills and energy drinks
On my nightstand,
patiently waiting in anticipation,
for their next chance at tempting me into submission,
the poor man's deviled eggs with a side of Hennessy.

Ah, how great it would be,
if the lonely bottles of water by my television
could possibly purge me
Or, maybe, offer a Depression-era baptismal service
So I can find my peace of mind,
as another bottle hits the floor.

I had an Irish chicken
in France, found her on
the road at Killavullen,
near Mallow close to the
Cognac Brandy family
ancestral home, which
is called Bally Mac Moy.

Had it been a ****, I
would have christened
him " Mac Poule ".

You call me a friend, as you pull out a knife you stab me in the back.
Not once but twice, friends for life but that's a straight up lie
you don't have a clue about ride or die.
Every couple months you brought somebody new into our group
But at the end it was always me and you.
Asked for my forgiveness when you sinned. Had me questioning like who am I?
But once to many times
I said,... "don't worry its fine."
Who would had thought you were plotting behind mine.
Took the dirt from where you digged out my grave to throw on my name.
You said it and you meant it till death do us part.
You wanted to steer and me not be there for the ride. You wanted the name and everything that came You were my partner in crime,
who you let blind your eyes. You didn't see my vision. Et tu, Brute? You betrayed me like Brutus
did to Julius.
Like judas did to jesus.
You kissed me on the cheek for several gold pieces.
Tell me if
You don't get the anomaly of my metaphor. If this was juice I'm Raheem and your Bishop. Is crazy how much I actually miss you.
All those new people and I'm the only one wishing you. ..... well wherever you are..... whethere is heaven or hell.
What you did was betrayal
and in my grave you buried yourself.
Til death do us part you said it and you meant it.
But here I stand
Hennessy on hand
With the same gun that held the bullets in your lungs.
This was a friend of mine
Till death do us part
In heaven or hell I'll be your ride or die... bang

we was in the bando,
trappin, we were trapped..
cook named Orlando,
moved across the track..

used to be my  neighbor, now hes got the paper,
owns a couple barbershops, got myself a taper,

owns a deli too, couple cleaners down the main street,
not long ago we were sitting in the same seat..

back when,

we was in the bando,
trappin, we were trapped..
kitchen hot too handle,
Found ourselves a rat..

polices, driving by increases...
Orlando had a thesis,
Moved in with his nieces..
He says...

"Theyll never catch me in here,
I live without fear,
only time i cry is with this tattoo tear"

A couple days later, cops broke the door in,
couple windows too, just to let more in,
they found a couple rifles, most of them foreign...
Cuffed Orlando, his niece, and his babymomma Lauryn...

multiple charges of distribution.
couple cases of ******...
money laundering, and weapons, his attorney would murmur...


They say my writing *****, this is no place for this crap..
i dont do poetry, i just write reality rap..
and truthfully, nowadays reality lacks.
So i dedicated this to his daughter Natalie Max.

25 to life..
no chance of parole, bottle....

of hennessy,

just *** he was my role model..

They say how can you defend him, when i yell free Orlando..
*** i still remember when..
we was in the bando...




-afj

Another year has been added onto my life.
Everything is okay,
And I thank God I’m still blessed,
But my tears are just
Getting bigger as the time
Starts to trigger.
My heart starts to get swollen
As my mind still tries to
Figure exactly what’s really going on.
Why do I feel so alone?
I try and close my eyes and picture home,
But I’ve been gone for too long.
I’m living in miseries.
My only pain killer is a double shot of
Hennessy.
Lord give me ink and some paper
Please.
My soul cries out within the
Ink that bleeds.
Oct 6 was the day I was born.
God how long will I live and still remain
Trapped in this storm?
My heart for writing
Can’t be the reason I’m still alive.
God gave me another chance
To get my hands on the prize,
But it’s been too long to why I’m still living in
Disguise
Of pure evil that set fire in my
Eyes.
Aching bones in my body,
And a hopeless dream of
Corvettes and audi’s.
Entrepreneurship,
And dedication is what I feen,
But another year has been added onto
This helpless black queen.
I’m not sure why me.
My pencil is about to break,
And my paper is about to rip.
The hardness of my thoughts,
And my teeth that’s clenched and gripped
Is only another episode to why I’m still
Here.
#HAPPYBIRTHDAY





-Marci H.

She said, "How can you just stand there and not care"
I stood my ground as she melted On to the kitchen floor
Told her, "You don't have to hurt no more."
As I walked out like her deadbeat Farher. The door slammed.
Went. Copped a bottle.
And let the project shadows swallow me
Darkness mixed with Hennessy.
I pictured you in my greatest dreams
A minime, a better me
The hurt the pain was just airing out me
Talking to myself in these empty streets
Who is there to hear me!!
Never did I ask why me
Thought I'll help you find your destiny
But God had a better plan for you that didn't include me.
Was it my fault child?
Did I *** short child?
From the **** and the liquor in me
No rubber on when she begged me... to stay.
Your mama brought the devil out from me
But I loved her, loved her more deeply than what I've loved anybody
You were the make or break
The should I go or should I stay
Only man to smile when the cycle didn't come around.
Ask God where I go from here now?
Where you a boy?
Where you a girl?
It doesn't matter with her looks and my attitude you could have taken over the world.
Sun rising as I walk back in to the projects fading shadows
A sticky lobby while wait for this pissy elevator
32nd floor express
As I walk in I see your mama there melted on the kitchen floor
This is a letter to my unborn child
Hope my words reached you in my prayers
Letter to my unborn child.

She craves the feeling of intimacy
She wants her thoughts drunken under his Hennessy
Make her mind come out of its virginity
Innocently she waits for a man to make love to her soul
Unconditionally craving her body as it’s more then just *** on legs
Pin her mind to the edge of the bed
And make its legs shake
until she feels it in her head
In the future she looks ahead
And remember the life that spread
And the parts of her soul where dead
Skin cells shead
After that
After making her mind reach the peak
Of its purest ******
Then only then you can have her

It’s a race to the bottom of the bottle
between sanity and sober realization
to every impaired negation and how to
alleviate and mediate the dependancy I
place on finding new routes to the
end of the flask. —
The hands of the bottle hold
dreaded burdens above my head,
bringing life to each morrowed breath,
and write hyms towards yearning
a long awaited wish for death,
sobriety weaves this addiction
of solitude through each thought of
halted life, and pushes it’s back
as it’s heels leave crevices to follow,
a view of darkness to come,
with turning back placing another knot
down a throat with attempt to swallow.
as each run of whiskey drips down the
walls of my throat the sinking ship within
my veins finds strength to stay afloat.
a Wiser whisper tickles at the anticipations
towards taking another sip,
the Hennessy tendencies stutter
a ****** equilibrium captivating
and inching my sanity towards
a shot of sequel librium. —
As ***** spews and consumes
the inhabited ground, a paroxysm
of unconsciousness feels
mentally sound,
blacked out with the following
morning full of acts to repent,
the monetary blackness
proves to be nothing but content,
recollection of priors
seem to fade with the desire of
sobriety and eliminating any hope
towards thoughtless propriety. —
Momentary happiness through
intoxication provides no mediation
between a sober fight for death
and a drunken one, the wish for
lifelessness is just subdued by
stumbling to bed and the inability
to steadily hold a gun to my head.

neck·ing/ˈnekiNG/
Noun: The action of two people kissing and caressing each other amorously.


Both thumbs hanging on the back pockets of your jeans
while leaning against the wall and biting your bottom lip
enticing the oasis of your tongue, your breath dying of thirst.

Your flirtatious smile already knows that it’s entitled
to the mwah’s, ooh’s and aah’s coming the way of your pout
little did you know of the kisses you could fit in that mouth.

it’s the mathematical sum of everything that’s round
it’s dancing in the rain under an infinite fall of X’s and O’s
it’s nibbling on a bottle of Hennessy before taking a shot.

While I hold your face with both hands,
my eyes never wavering from yours,
I caress your cheeks, undress your thoughts,

feverishly going in, taking all the time in the world
to taste every bit of you and savor the moment so to speak
with our senses fogged, ******* in a tangled rope, in a kiss.

Then I pull some back to slowly feel your breathing into me
your clouded lips in my fingertips are a miracle of humidity
the stripped walls of oblivion is the last frontier with will see.

Before submerging deep into the point of no return
before your ripe apple meets the delicacy of my touch
before leaving in me, flower of skin, every last drop of you.

At times I sit
Back and relax
from the daily disappointment
of another failed attempt
to make a milli
out of 2 greenbacks
and a shiny penny
so money i lack
due to employers
not callin a brotha back
"dont worry Wayne"
"i dont care about that"
"im really feelin you"
"i got yo back"

her name was Elaine
beautiful black woman
skinned the finest brown
kept my head off the ground
facing up to the sky
with all the confidence
of a grown *** man
till the week my luck
ran out like
our well ran dry
i was victim of nonsence
moms got word that
i smashed in the backseat
snatched back the keys
havent seen ol' girl since

lookin up to ask
what more can happen
i recieve a call
that put me on my ***
my one thang from
around the way
was seen at the mall
hugged up wit women
i put the phone down
cause im mad as hell
turned to the liquor
tilted the bottle
maybe i can find
that hidden message
pour up the brown
so i can sip
till i cant tell
this *******
aint just in my mind

Courvoisier or Hennessy
Remy Martin too
when i find my
next one thang
the brown got my back
when im in the groove
kissing the lips
of that beautiful child
born of kings and queens
of kingdoms not crack
workin a 9 to 5
not depending on
the next coke move
relieving her stress
while breaking that back
blast off at 9
cause her love
might taste so divine
scratch me up
then we goin till 5
i know i wont
be that 60 second man
and let her down
cause the brown got my back
i figured out my problem
just gotta lay that
brown **** down

Isolated faces paradoxically surround
Bound by wants infinity
I strayed away from banks
Cause greed was just to trendy
The idea of friends and numbers
Threw me to the ground
Figured we'd crown 4 quarters instead of 100 pennies
Swede shoes, silk shirts, and bentleys
By some is defined as plenty
While little Lenny with stomach empty dreams of Denny's
Or some water or a Father would help immensely
Afgani blowing and Hennessy gulping MC's
Take their aperture and narrow it densely
Make millions off the Emmys some how erases Memories
Of pennies struggling in this world
Mother fiend'n they're just fending
Against the many
In class they're considered lowers
Below us they just a penny
I say our morals need reordered
cause no doubt that they're all Quarters
And deserve entry into this bank of respect
That has become run by hoarders
Loving to build borders 3 times the size
Of their self righteous shoulders
This is a disassembly of a culture surrounded by sentries.

I've been up for hours, not really my choice.
I sold myself short, thirty percent off to the devil, I constantly hear his voice.
This isn't my life.
I should've settled for two kids and a wife.
But I got complacent.
Everything in those moments felt good so why not.
Now I sit.
In the dark.
Alone.
Depression deep down, I can feel it to the bone.
With nothing to call my own.
I really wanna go home.
Other side of the country just trying to build my own;
Throan.

I've made too many mistakes.
However, they all made me;
Somehow.
Blurred vision when I think of destiny.
Or maybe it's the fifth of Hennessy.
Why can't I just jump and know for a fact I got the remedy.

More life.
Longevity.
More juice.
I'm seeing two sides of me, but switching up or pick and choose.
I'm staring at a tree trying not to eat forbidden fruit,
While I'm sinking in the ground, could I be meeting my roots.
Maybe I should freshen up and clean my Georgia, Henry county unfilled shoes, just to get,
More life.
But I'm Only Human.

5 shots
vision;blurry
my voice is slurry.
10 shots down my throat,
liquor filled with doubt and woe.
15 shots burning down on me,
drunk of the Hennessy
20 shots and everything is blurry
tonight, im drowning
with 20 shots and counting

January 9th marks 18 years of living without you .
And it pains me to know the rest of my life will have the same. story, because another lonely birthday is another year without you mom.
another year without you dad.

I wonder if you look down on me.
Do you see me? The things that I see?
Do you wish as hard as I do every night to just be able to remember the warmth I had with you?
Because I’ve never even felt that warmth with you.

When people lose a loved one they tell me they can relate to me, telling me they cry over the visions of the past they see.
But they don’t understand what its like to cry over your imagination.
They don’t understand what its like to be forced to dream because you don’t exist in any of my memories.

All I can do is wish for you not to see me.
Because I’m a hopeless wreck that numbs the pain with a bottle of Hennessy.
A hopeless wreck that pumps so much black in his veins that he struggles to breathe.
A SadBoy who wants to cut deep and watch his life seep

A hopeless boy who wants his mom more than anything
I would do anything just to see you mom


I don’t know what to do anymore
I would be lying if I said I ever did
Because night after night, fight after fight, sin after sin
I tell myself I will change, just do make the same mistake as before

You are a planet
Come crashin into me
Start feeeling like
This is hennessy

Everytime that you
Come rushin into me
I start to think about
Everything I really need

But it seems like
Seems like
You don't care about
My life

But at the same time
I'm ok with that

stop asking my major
I'm pretty sure
there isn't an academic sequence
for self destruction
since I can't focus on genome sequences
I pretend my life is a trailer
for a low-budget film festival drama
and I come up with names for it
when I'm sitting alone in the library
"***, Drugs, and Radiohead"
"Hennessy and Coke-Zero"
or my personal favorite
"When Everyone Likes You (But You)"
I wonder if anyone will clap at the end

She was careful that she was not seen
There, in the graveyard,
deep in the night.
A single rose in her left hand
A bottle of Cognac in her right.
She knew the path to his grave by heart,
How could it be otherwise?
The two of them had shared one heart,
Now in his tomb the Master lies.
Libation poured upon the stone.
She wets her lips with Hennessy
He, of course, Edgar Allan Poe
She, of Course,his Annabelle Lee.

Sitting in the bar just drinking
Tired of waiting for someone who will never come
My brain going overdrive rethinking
I will never reach an outcome
Throwing my glass at the wall
Remembering how it feels to be small
Thinking of where I went wrong
Drowning all of my sorrows and mistakes
Why do I have to be so fake
Looking back and remembering how it feels to have a real smile
Always acting as if I am on trial
But I can not I am too scared
Everything in my fantasy
Just sitting by myself drinking Hennessy

I live in the town
Where kids sip champagne
To forget pain
And chug hennessy
With their enemies
Simply licking down *****
And eating their frienemies
Life's a bottle of tanqueray
Have a seat, listen, stay
The worlds a shot of tequila rose
Complex as a stiffened pose
I live in a town
Where the kids
Lush
In a hush

"Which are You?
Those who go to bed early
Look forward to tomorrow
Those who dread the coming day
Stay up until they can see the sun
Just to make sure they'll make it." -Sara K

To Sarah k which are you?

I'm the one who wishes to sleep early looking forward for the day.
But as the night gets older I start dreading for tomorrow.
At 10 pm is two nyquil with water.
From 11 to 12 is dark liquor.
Hennessy or Remy hoping that'll do the trick
I just want to sleep until God calls me.
1230 hits I'm still wide awake
So I crush and roll and my eyes blood clot
By 1am my body is done but my mind still racing.
I take a percocet feeling if I numb the body just enough I can numb the brain and lay to rest
I don't want to see tomorrow anymore
I don't want the to sun rise.
Is winter time in NY so light has yet to hit the horizon
2,3,4, I toss, I turn
Turmoil in my train of thoughts
As if I was walking through the river of sorrows
At 5 I finally close my eyes
630 finally arrives
My window is perfectly aligned with the sun
While the rays go through my shades
And rest upon my eyes
I awake maybe wishing I would be laid to rest
Chilly morning and my day begins
Xanax for my anxiety and depression
Adderall to keep me focus and awake
Red bull for breakfast and I'm on my way.

I am the one that whish he sleeps but is always wide awake writing with blood as if it was ink.

****** man
Lurking in the corners
Evil smile
Meanwhile
A child
Alive
But barely
Can't pick of the phone
Who'll answer

A cop,
Rookie
Would be
A vet in time
But the shots
That hit his spine
Hit his soul a lot harder

Almost as hard as
The hits
From a ****,
That used his fist
And never open hand,
Demands not met,
No speech
From the *****'s throat

Silent night
Was supoosed to be
Holy
But the holey stockings
Was a worn out reminder,
The timer hit 12:00
on the 25th
But
A bowl of cheerios
No honey
No milk
Was bold
As the truth
It told
Like
The gifts
Never bought
Or the mall
Never shopped
In the cold

Black ice on the road at night
My car never fought so hard
To follow lights
Flurries proved
To be as blury
As the vision
From sippin
Too much wine
Red stains,
And lipstick
Secrets untold,
Focus on the road
Home is but a couple miles
But another cup
Would suffice
I'm willin to suffer the consequences
What will I sacrafice?
What's the price
For a few drinks
After supper?

Besides,
The bartender wouldnt of offered
Enough scotch
To make my mind alter
He's a friend to me,
What?
You mean to tell me,
That the end of me,
Is in a
Glass of hennessy
Ha!


Hail mary full of grace,
Full of faults
But full of faith
And as she prayed
The lord did praise
Amazed
Life proved to be a maze
But in the haze
A few rays
Would should shine her way
There were 2 sets
Of footprints
But a woman fell
There's been
1 set ever since
Carried
New Born
Born Again
And twice married
Widows tears
On a pillow
Bible never far
Closed eyes
Could still reach
Even in sleep
Wrinkles deep
A hot flash
of her age blinks
on the alarm
1:40
And one 40 year old woman
Who thinks
That if she keeps
His name in glory
Her story
Would end in peace.

All I got is Hennessy on my tongue
and, baby, you on my lips.

My views on society are,"people without meaning"
One day I strolled the block, seen a girl, tears streaming
Out her eyes, people mocked as she began to cry
And as sister would view it, I viewed it as unright
As the crowd cleared, I steered my way into her own
And as I enclosed her zone, it appeared that she had shown
Gratitude, it was as if she never had a friend before.
At last, he began to tell me what she sniveled for
"I get called a *****, *****, ****, on a daily basis.
I can't even face myself sometimes, at this rate
I want to end it all, don't even have no one to call a mother
Caused she died, that's right. Checked out in front of my eyes
***** still tragic, I guess that's what happens when you live deadly
I ain't clean, I drink heavily
Hennessy and **** is all I need
Basically, I'm a huge embarrassment
It ain't hard to tell I'm not doing that well.
Highway to hell and I'll gladly be there.
The same fate as my mother, it's a very fitting fare."

Waking in the stagnant syrup, viscous in its compound, molasses for the profound
Met Anne soiling the jar as Mouschi and Boche wage war
Diary held in the family name, passages removed for the sanctity, of a lonesome father’s sanity.
Voided bowels kept in masonry, cemented, to the back, weeping out portals of light held through a crack.

Seems prosperity can be found in imposed seclusion, though not maintained until conclusion.
Turned over for turnip change, imposing on the Frank family a need to estrange
Left off to Poland to fumigate the air, stripped of the yellow star one’s required to wear.
Thrown into death in motion, avoid eye contact, and most kinds of commotion.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
The voided track clicked into a closed lane.
Hennessy held as operators quiver in alcoholic splendor.
Rolling thunder, click clacking for no gain.
Stationary tumble, fragments of ice kicked up from the blender.

Mrs. Garrett went to town on all the *****
Traded for at cost.
Pulverized **** gifted for a glimpse of ****
Snorted out with assembling frost.

Cannibals hidden amid the train car
Stored in S.S uniforms, to be smelted in coming years
Vocalizing incendiary bigotry meant to sour
Relieved transgressions…being deemed a response to fears.

Cruel, burnt ash floating from the cinders
Red-lit skyline resonant before sleep
Slave life held in mines, and retrieving timber
Sole remaining heirloom, the cloth from their feet.

rescue me oh lard rescue me...from these politicians neglecting me..pretend to be protecting me Fathers of the land selling me to the enemy..culture is men calling themselves ****** and seeking not to make an accomplice associate or friend but offending me, so much hate I'm gone need bout ten of me, relocate to a bunker deep in Tennessee and pass days with 160z brandy snifters, ice cubes and Hennessy smoking home grown steadily rising to cloud nine and a blown dome, so high if i fall I'll die I'll fall and I'll dive into fields of visions that release me to be free of superstitions, no judge no jury sorry officer no court convictions, and I'll still be smoking and wildin out feeding my addictions..aint living life with no restrictions or silent objections i sit back cleverly connecting reflections to bring to light my next projection..born a King by your election, to Adonai's call there is no objection..Missed me with that **** here I'll point a firm direction, faith be your guide your will be your own protection..walk ye in your life in the shadow of Gods grace and mercy eternally enslaved by enchantment, destined to despair as happiness ignorantly given to death by divination.

neon lights and drunken nights,
skimpy tights and unholy delights.

anything to make the pain disappear,
go ahead and down another beer.

hennessy to forget but somehow always remember,
that fateful night in september.

blaring music and tight spaces,
i'd doubt i'm still in your mom's good graces.

euphoria fills my head,
helping me forget a love now dead,

finding your next replacement,
thinking how to tell them about my lack of commitment.

finally, stumbling home,
letting strangers roam.

alas, the night has come to an end,
wake, rinse and repeat again.

The night is here and the wind is slightly rushing at our entrances; although, inside the climate has it's differences. In between the thermostat providing warmth, dimmed vision, television illuminating our faces, cinnamon scents floating through the vents, my arms are imprinted from your sudden firm grips. It's my lap you sit as we watch continuos scenes of outburst, followed by your hysterical vocal siren. Unsure if this movie is actually getting scary or if its because the Hennessy mixed apple cider is wearing. As the fallen leaves picks up by the breeze I can hear growing alerts of "trick or treat", which happens to be the most exciting sight of your night. Seeing you so enthused by the little costumes, loving how well you are with the young; therefore, it's blissful to witness you having so much subtle fun. Temporarily able to shut ourselves back inside and it is obvious that the gusts have been having it's way with your bun. Reposition as "Netflix and chill" get back real. You get your last shivers out as you find shelter for your arctic feet. Took us a couple of tries to agree on what's comfortable, finally. Now I'm back to supporting your marshmallow like body in my tightened arms when I'm stricken by this rush of paradise. The feeling of triumph, due to being able to give you what you ultimately asks of me. You didn't know you'll be spending nights like this with your superhero dressed in a white T-shirt and grey sweatpants. The uniform that none of the candy seeking children glorifies; however, they don't know how high I jumped, how hard I stomped, how straight I punched and how fast I had to run to save you from all those jokers.

Cloud nine, Kendrick Lamar, uh
I take a sip of Hennessy and then get pissy drunk
I ain't a drinker, I'm a thinker, call it what you want
But if you turn your back, know that you just missed your chance
to witness the realest **** that's ever been told to man
I found myself losing focus at a Sunday service
Embarrassed so I started questioning God, what is my purpose?
He say to live the way he did, that's all he want from me
Spread the word and witness, he rose on the first Sunday
I said alright, enthused that my Lord gave a listen
I opened my bible and searched to be a better Christian
and this from a person that never believed in religion
But ****, my life is so ****** up man, I can't help but give in
I'm giving testimonies to strangers I never met
Hopped on the pulpit and told 'em how I was truly blessed
Felt like I'm free from all my sins when the service was over
Walked out the church, then got a call that my homie was murdered
and lost my faith again

[Chorus: BJ the Chicago Kid]
What am I gonna do? Gotta have faith
Life is too much, understood? Where is your faith?
Oh, faaaaaaaith...
All you need is the size of a mustard seed

[Kendrick Lamar]
Single black parent from Compton raising children of four
That's four innocent *******, cause papa they don't know
Her day consists of working back and forth with babysitters
Can't find no one to watch her kids so she pay her sister
Her baby daddy ain't bout ****, that ***** ain't bout ****
Spent his daughter milk just to cop a new outfit
She pray to God every night hoping that he'll mature
and maybe one day his kids, something that he'll live for
Baby wanna go back to school but she need some help
because it's hard tryna pay the bills when you're by yourself
She thought about credit card scams till she heard a voice
that said the Devil is a lie, make a better choice
And so it's back to McDonald's and every month dealing
with them crazy *** people at the county building
Looked to the heavens and asked 'em to make a better way
Then got a letter in the mail, lost her section 8
Then lost her faith again

[Chorus]

[Punch]
Kendrick, I appreciate the opportunity to vent my *****
This about how faith works, yeah, murk it...
I had dreams of holding a nine-milla to raise Killa
Ask him why as my eyes fill up
Each day it gets more realer, orangutans bang like gorillas
It's jungle when the ****** ensue
The rat's lurking, vulture's circling the serpents
Cats lying through they teeth, my ***** didn't deserve it
I flirted with the idea of caressing the steel
to make karma come faster than she normally will
It's ill, to see my faith try and leave me
It's so hard to get it, to get rid of it is easy
I'm tryna reach cloud nine, that's what my ****** bout
But it never rain in California 'less them pistols out
Until then, my feet planted on the ground
Shadowboxing my conscience till my faith start responding
And if I get no answer, just know I tried
I should have never looked into his son's eyes
Ray Charles voice

[Chorus]

[Kendrick Lamar]
This for my people that stressing whenever times is hard
Your mind's slipping, wondering is there really a God?
Knowing you shouldn't think that way and tryna freeze your brain
But whenever it's pain, that feeling forever remains
We can't believe what we can't see and reality seems stronger than prayer
cause you tried to change your life, and now you live in a wheelchair
And your son was born with cancer and he live in urgent care
at the tender age of twelve, and you feel that no one cares
Searching for answers, that's human nature, you ain't in the wrong
Just know, when you feeling that way his spirit's in the room
I watched people I know pray and catch the Holy Ghost
and wonder why I ain't never caught that feeling before
Maybe they know him better, or I don't know no better
But what I do know is that he's real and he lives forever
So the next time you feel like your world's about to end
I hope you studied because he's testing your faith again

I'd rather not live like there isn't a God
than die and find out there really is, think about it

i. Like a building on fire, you appeared in my path. You were what all burning things are, hot and radiant, crackling with a force I cannot name. You were a comet speeding to earth, a malfunctioning two-stage rocket. I watched as you turned yourself inside out, as you were absorbed by the sky, as you detonated yourself in an act of destruction so powerful it created collateral art. I watched as you gave yourself up to ash. I was there.


ii. When a building is on fire, the first human instinct is to run away. But I ran toward you. I ran toward you, because I knew what things might be tucked within you. I ran toward you, because your heart deserved to pulled from the wreckage. I ran toward you, because I was not afraid, because I have been a burning building and I remember what it was like to be trapped inside myself, dissolving in the heat and the pain, toxic and dehumanized. I remember. So I ran toward you while everyone else ran in the opposite direction, and I put my hands on your windows, and I entered you.


iii. You were trembling in those flames, those flames I swept aside like curtains, looking for the salvageable. You were sad and raw and red and wonderful, surrounding me with your swollen hopes, bleeding words of venom and gentleness, a dichotomy of throbbing remorse. You blew out window panes and shook down doors. You shattered the roof, sent furniture tumbling. You howled at a moonless night, you agonized gloriously.


iv. I watched the pieces of you fly. The Tuesday night Hennessy, the poets you tried to understand, the I-am-not-scaredness of you, the pressure of your angry palms smacking the table, the movement of your legs, the ache of your voice, the bravado of your soul, all sent scrambling like grains of sand. I watched you contort, watched you turn quiet and strange, watched you forget things I still remember, things I cannot forget: the color of our laughter, the finding of trust, the promises you failed to keep, the dissolution of the invincible. I watched as you were, for one incredulous moment, so beautiful I couldn’t breathe. I stood at the core of you while you collapsed around me. I wept for you in ways I have wept for no one.


v. Like a building on fire, you appeared in my path. You ended the way all burning things do, falling, skeletal, to earth. Desperate. Brilliant. Gone.