My hair is braided, I swear
Somedays I wear it like a crown
And somedays a crown of thorns
Creditors keep calling
I don’t answer
Friends reach out
Reluctantly I engage
Engagement like a minimum-security prison
Hush, the weak have arisen
That’s some days
I long for, crave for
Nothing
Answers
Fulfillment
Peace
Emptiness
Apple pie?
French Fries
With loads of ketchup
Presence
Yes, That’s it
The present-perfect moment
Wrapped in gift gold
A pen that doesn’t skip
Except down the street
A pen that writes what it wants
Not what it’s told
Without regards to you
A totally naked pen
Unselfconsciously naked pen
A pen without permission
A pen without presumption
A pen without proper purpose
A pen without a penchant for perfection
(excuse the alliteration)
Without politeness or uptightness
A pen that flip-flops
A pen that hides under the covers when you’re around
A pen that doesn’t stop
Even after it runs out of ink
Pink Ink
Think ink
Until I get tired of pink think ink
A pen that doesn’t get bored so easily
Like you
Maybe I do  
And maybe I don’t
Maybe we’re two pens in a pod.
Oh, fickle pen
That’s so like you
Yup’ the pen made me do it
I’m a slave to the pen
What’s up with you?

Sophia,
She was full of interest but silent
her view to life was lucid but dim
She knew her finish line
so she dug the world to find her answer

She locked all her doors,
counted the stars,
dreamt until dawn,
nothing interest her outside her room

Then Sophia met Philos,
a man full of kindness, affection, and compassion
The world was his adventure, his arena
And they fell for each other

Sophia didn’t get him at first
He looked like a fool
But he loved her dearly
despite her cold heart and her uptightness
Philos gave anything to her

Sophia felt different since Philos
He thought her a view she once misunderstood
An overwhelming warmth hugged her body
filled with ideas and hopes
She felt moved to bring her outside

Love is the cause of action
and now she know that
Because without Philos, Sophia is nothing