I'm a human of the contemporary times
A millennial, part of Generation Y
A digital native in shrink wrap
An open minded, wide eyed, big mouthed wind tunnel

A genetic, mathematical, anatomic error
I'm souped up and decked out
I'm high maintenance with low standards
My humor is low brow, my expectations are nonexistent
I see the negatives as positive
I see the positives as negative
I think in subjective and objectives
I'm on the web
But off the grid

My pockets full
But my wallets empty

I'm over educated
But underemployed
I'm overworked
But under paid

I'm a bisexual, bipolar by product of society
I'm a hardworking, dedicated procrastinator
I'm an inarticulate fat head who isn't afraid to speak his mind
I'm a cold hearted hothead
I can hear, some times I don't listen
I'm clean and polished to get my hands *****
I work my fingers to the bone
Then cross them in hope of better tomorrow
And knock on wood until my knuckles bleed

You can check my Facebook profile
Read my Tweets
Scroll through my Instagram
Send me a Snapchat
And you can kiss my ***
I'm non-toxic
I'm irreplaceable
I'm a rarity
I'm an oddity
I'm offbeat
Off centered
Off color
Off kilter
Out of tune
Out of my mind
Hypersensitive
Indifferent
Rude
Crude
And universally unacceptable

I'm wasting time
And taking up space
But I'm living it up
I won't die down
I'm two steps ahead
I'm left behind
Coasting on thin ice
Walking the edge
Pushing the limit
And taking a nap
I'm greedy
I'm *****
I'm lazy
I'm angry
I'm cocky
I'm envious
And I'm
Not sorry

I like laying low
I love being high
I don't want to be a stick in the mud so I get ******
I'm a street smart *******
I'm book smart dumb ****
I'm an eloquent gutter mouth
I speak in
****** vernacular
Passionate profanity
Cynical sarcasm
And choleric curses
I have criminal ties
And it suites me
I'm a ball hogging, showboating team player
I'm a devoted alcoholic
I'm a thrifty shopaholic
I'm in school
But out to lunch

I've got friends
I've got enemies
I've got my family
And I've got problems
I hear voices in my head
I see things that aren't there
I over look
Over analyze
And over think
I under cook
Under appreciate
And underestimate

I use my WiFi to listen to LoFi
I watch low quality television in Hi Def
I'm a bombastic contentious objector
Taken aback but forwardly thinking
In your face
Out of stock
Unisex
I get down
And get it up
I'm a low key middle man
Undeniable
Unlikable
But lovable
A grounded skyrocket
Detachable
Seasonal
Unflappable
An everlasting
Know nothing
Know it all
I'm a egg-headed basket case
I'm a real heel
A loafer
I got the boot
Because he couldn't afford to live in a shoe
Or the box it came in
I'm broke
I'm busted
Discussed
Disgusted
But I loved
I care
I help
I laugh
I try
I cry

I'm on the short bus for the long haul
I have no money but I always got my two cents
I'm good with secrets
I'm bad with numbers
And good with money
I'm bad with people
But yet they love me
I'm unbiased
Tolerant
And impatient
I'm abstract
I'm avant garde
I like violent ***
With volatile love
I like pornographic snapshots
******* ******* motion pictures
Live action lust
But nothing beats my meat like the real thing

I shop at second rate super markets
First rate second hand stores
I'm on cruise control in the fast lane
I'm double parked
I've been traumatized
Dramatized
Hospitalized
Ostracized
Demoralized
Desens­itized
Exorcised
And I've had my toes stepped on

I was a premeditated mistake
A failed abhorrent abortion
Vaccinated
Alienated
Regulated
And always medicated
I have a an attention span an inch wide
But, I'm real
I'm honest
I'm kind
I go hard
But  take it easy
I'm always slick
But never ******

Wheeling and dealing
Clipping and stealing
Lending and giving
Living and breathing

I think this one's a keeper
You've all dug me a little deeper
Hope you enjoyed my veracity
Because this poem is completely me

Autumn mornings filtered
gentle daylight on sunbeams
across cityways
and warm-tinted sidewalks,
upbeat lofi humming
with the dove's sorrowful song,
while weaving past
the struggles days bring.

There's an illusion in vacations
You buy a holiday bundle to endless beaches
Expecting to melt into a puddle
From the wet sun, from the softest massages, from the savoury delicacies
Yet I find myself melted
The same numbing beat
Disguised as lofi background
The same screeching shrieks
Of strangers in the sun
The lack in detail as I see the same view
Everyday, the same restaurant every meal
A sameness away from home

In the sand a million footsteps form
In a uniform path from the sleepy gazebos to the ocean
The ocean stretching far and away
The horizon hiding the destination of the sun
No footsteps can lead me towards where I long
Stuck in a routine I cannot call my own

lofi hip hop decorates my brain
notebook formulaic and profane
anxiety seeps my malleable mind
latching onto anything it finds.

relaxing and loving
for laying in bed
all day every day

chill beats that flow
over your ears
and your tired soul

Be it autumn summer spring,
wind or rain or birds in sing,
there is just one simple thing,
that puts my mind at ease.

When I feel my smile dying,
Before the numb and bouts of crying
I go out with hopes of spying,
Lamplight on the leaves.

I hate people that are fake
I stake those people and throw them in a lake
I'll pop their eyeballs with some darts
I smoke another spliff with some lofi and Mozart
I choke once again on your empty-*** platitudes
I see you think you're all high but you're on low altitude
I notice you think you're so great but I hate your attitude
I despise the fact that you'll probably call me crude
I laugh at the idea that you won't make it, dude

Watering the plants
is not a meaningless task
crumbs of green in their pots
growing as they please
random yet adamant
i'm a little tired in this
early summer evening
on this 18th floor balcony
they have become my scenery
perhaps not willingly
but i feel natural and fulfilled
the goldenrod
the boat orchids
the spearmint
periwinkle and lantana
i fill a plastic container with water
slowly i imbue it into the
gradually darkening dusk
earlier i was reading some blogs
with lofi music playing on my phone
fresh and fluent
the mood is like opening a door
then another door
the plants enjoy the melody now in stillness
they make no further comments.

The nights drags on
Lost in my thoughts
Listen to lofi songs
The mind is a healthy fruit till it rots
I lay here awake
Thinking of everything
Every possible mistake
About my future and and my past really just anything
The night fills my head with hopes and dreams
Wheres the knowlege that I lack
Is it hidden in time with bigger and better things?
I'm on a knowlege train trynna get on track
Picking up all the peices of my life
Trynna not to get bitter but better
Hoping to put together something right
Its time I switch around those letters
All I got is all I need
I'm only human
I'll always bruise and Ill always bleed
Imma changed man
With a PEACE of mind
And all this came
From a restless night....

Ambience...
Lofi brainwashing beats to study and relax to.
A ritual nook, tucked in the back
Of the museum;
A perfectly designed trap
For young 20-somethings with anxiety.
One, two, three
Colorful figures spin across the screen.
Or was it four?
There definitely weren't five.

Something about it was appealing.
Perhaps it felt like a resting place,
To be quiet and breathe.
Or perhaps we simply liked our idea
Of little aliens being under their hats.
In that moment though, I felt a door open in me.
Where the door was, I couldn't exactly tell.
My brain? My heart?
Maybe my pancreas, which is my favorite body part.

At first it opened just a crack,
But a chill draft slowly swung the door.
A light filled that space,
Falling on corners that had never been lit.

What I'm trying to say is that
While sitting there,
Watching the three (four?) men whirl back and forth,
I realized that
I wanted to love you for as long as the universe would allow.
Lo and behold, as if you knew what I was thinking,
You looked straight into me with your radiant eyes
And took my sweaty hand in your own.

I started puking birds-
I watched them fly south for the winter,
toward warmer pavement and fuller trees.

I started stuttering butterflies-
I watched them take giant sips from birdbaths,
We both know my mouth is so, so dry.

The thing about wings
the thing about things
the thing about trying to focus
and listen and nod while
My mouth is sticky and
my brain feels clogged, like a real
mess worth of paper towels
bunched and flushed in a panic
all the way down my throat

The electricity in this room is so loud
You keep talking, I look for outlets
You get annoyed, I turn off the lamp
You say stand still, I say I’m still listening
You say this is what I mean
I say I’m listening
I repeat what you said before you got annoyed
You say that’s not the point
I switch off the surge protector
I say it’s still there
you say that’s not the point
I say I hate this sound
You say it doesn’t bother me
You say if it ever does I put on the lofi-hip-hop-headphone-girl channel
You say think about it
I think about birds in trees instead
and if power lines are so so loud
or if it’s okay because they can drink from birdbaths
and fly south when they want to,
not just in winter. not just when the pavement is warm.


I say sometimes listening to you is like
watching a show with subtitles;
sometimes you are the audio and the electricity
is the subtitles, sometimes the
electricity is the audio and you are the subtitles,
and other times you are the electricity as well as
the subtitles and maybe there’s no audio at all,
and maybe the video is a few frames behind the audio
and maybe the subtitles are projected in reverse
like when you take a picture of a mirror
and maybe another electric note harmonizes with the first
and also maybe you’re having a stroke or at least
you’re really thirsty and you can’t unclench your knuckles.

You say now what, I say nothing
I’m on my knees, crawling the carpet,
feeling for outlets, scratching my rug burn,
unplugging sockets.

You say nothing for a moment
I listen for any quiet electricity still playing
you sit down next to me, I lift my legs up and over yours
I look at you, you look at my knees
you say I’m not annoyed, I say that’s not the point
you say listen
you say have you thought about microdosing
I should hear a punchline cymbal

I hear nothing, I don’t feel warm
I start to laugh then stop
I start to stutter then stop
I puke.

Sometimes I lay in bed and weep when i look at the number of days i have left with you.
Sometimes is becoming more often.
Sometimes I listen to lofi and write you poetry you’ll never see.
Sometimes is becoming more often.
The point is sometimes I miss you- bad. because sometimes I just want to tell you the truth. Because you see, you’re going out of state but you’re spirit is still with me. And you have to move far away but I will crave your warm kisses when the seasons change and the weather outside vaporizes my breath. I will have to keep occupied because I’ve got it for you- bad. And tonight I need a long hug before you go home.

breaking wrists, bruised upper lips
chewing cigarettes like they're chalk sticks
breathing in, let's let go
throwing shoes over the barbed wire
and inhaling november rain to soothe this
this is the mediocre
let's blow **** up with dynamite
i want to see the end with you
hop in the busted Toyota
play some ****** lofi and let's let loose
bust your head on the dashboard
i want chaotic
run this red light, brake before the train on the track, dine and dash with me, shoplift this bottle of moscato for me
rack up the records
and let's let loose
i'll drink for me and i'll drink for you
i know you hate these nights when you can't reach a high
but i'll count the feathers with you
play with your hair
and hold your hand while we let the car run in your garage
i'll let you ramble about your rendezvous and listen diligently
this is how we can go, i just want to see the end with you
i hope this is good enough

i thank the Lord
for rainy days
and sweaters paired with shorts
my brother's joy
lofi music
warmth in my heart
and comfy beds -

maybe you too.

And the thought arrived and it demanded to be written,
As if it was some nation’s citizen deserving of life and liberty,
Still we see our fingers working, our thoughts spreading,
Thus we succumb, thus we surrender, thus we write.

The ideal is known as sitting under a tree, running through forest,
Grasping for air yet losing it all on undying laughter,
Was it something I said or is it because this is my first time?
Convincing myself I have stopped thinking about it yet here we are.

These pillows have lived in parallel universes and realities,
Looking far wondering, “Is this how they see us? How they feel?”
With lofi beats as soundtrack of this rainy  and chilly afternoon,
We were reminded yet again of whom we’ve been.

And so thoughts will keep on demanding, will keep on arriving,
It’s for us to stitch them to a larger narrative — not snippets but cores,
This way we will know who we will be because of them good old days,
When you find yourself sitting on a different, yet emotionally familiar place.

somewhere in lofi dreams girls sit in a meadow below a saturated sunset that melts everything in sight
but not them and they feel the warmth encapsulate them
as though they've slipped into a jar of honey
and they can still breathe

but if you ask me where that place is, i don't know
the smallest drops of water, they suffocate my best identity
the one that thrives in honey day dreams
and floats on evaporation's of polyamorous love

i'm sure that solid, honey drenched girl has
slept upon those clouds she pulls the cover over her face
and falls into love with two and the two lovers love her the same
her rasta smile and rainbow hair ooze and drip from her embodiment as she says "love is love, the more the better"
and she reeks of drugs and
spray tan and suddenly she
doesn't look so beautiful anymore

I listen to your problems, which touch soul to heart for years
I still wake up, hearing your laugh
Days later
Weeks later
Months Later
Seeing your smile in your eyes
Seeing your music in your words
Seeing your art through eye/s
I still draw thinking of how elegant your lips would kiss
I still listen to that elegant lofi music, thinking of how you'd cry
I listen to joji thinking about smiling, hugs, and you

You.
Smiling.

You.
Crying.

You.
Loving.



m
e

Her love
    grabs me by the reins.
    grasps my heart
       clutching. and letting go.
       clasping. and letting go.
          pumping life.
          teaching me to breathe.

Her name
    music. lofi. song.
    pouring rain. cracking fire.
    hands. holding hands.
    warmth.

Her
    more than
    fibers. sinews.
    skin. flesh.
    bone.

Her
    elegance. freedom. and
    everything I know.

Her
    everything I know

I am not a special moment
I am not ground hog's day
I am not a solar eclipse
Or a sky full of shooting starts
I am not 11:11
I am something else

I am a quiet back street
In early afternoon
I'm pavement you've walked over
A thousand times
I'm an inner city courtyard
Behind some fast food joint
Rose brick walls and a cherry tree

I'm your daily commute
I'm the pattern of the tiles
On your childhood bathroom wall
I'm the scars you trace unconsciously
Scars from scabbed knees
I am rolling over in your sleep
I'm the goosebumps you get
From your second favourite movie
I'm frozen peas

I am a blank sky
I am old sheets
I am chapstick and spare house keys
I'm the little statue in your front yard
On a partly cloudy afternoon
I'm a moment with your head back
Chewing gum in your car
Sitting alone in a Target parking lot
I'm the days between seeing your friends
I'm the scent of your shampoo
The sound of rain outside your first lover's room
I'm your lukewarm nights, your easier goodbyes
I'm white lies

I'm 4:23 PM drinking soda
By the window, on your back porch
I'm the dreams you had when you were three years old
The things you don't even remember anymore
I'm crickets
On a late summer night
I'm the tick of lofi music
Humming over your headphones
I'm everything you stand for

i picture you under the mellow sky right after
sunrise
laughing
i feel calm, as if lofi music is playing

actually i'm listening to it right now
i'm supposed to be doing
work but
i'm thinking of you

i don't know where we'll be in
a couple years
but i hope you will be happy
and i will be happy
even if it's not with each other

i feel detached
i won't be looking for answers from
you anymore
i'm trying to look for them in myself

i have to be independent
how do i know my happiness is
from self-love if it's entangled
in what i feel for you?

i know you said that i can work on
myself by being with you but
i can only give out so much
love in the world

and right now i barely have
anything left to feel
i am struggling with
managing mentally and emotionally

i want whatever is left in me
to finally be invested in me

it's about time i think

i don't want to be loved by anyone
else
and i never thought i would come to a point where
i'm saying this
but i'm desperate for self-validation and self-love

i value myself more than i realise,
and i want myself to
look up at me too,
if that makes any sense

but i hope you will do well.    

i hope i will too.

i hope you understand.

sincerely,
the form of me that lives in your head
(i hope it isn't too bad)