Tired of the sleepless nights
Thinking if my percieved reality is a
reflection
Of my desires
Or if we stand here flesh and bone
Paranoia making fresh wounds of the scars
left...
From the last time i adored false idols
But the song of the siren drew me from the
night
And it fed me the nectar of its fruit
So her venom now flows through my veins
My every thought laced with the poison
whoms cure lies in the sirens cloak.

Chereè, Chereè...Her mommy cried and warned her to be careful, 3 months ago she left home for L.A in hopes for becoming a star. Five foot five, dark green eyes, skin complexion as a beige princess, at a pool party in the hills she met the producer to both whoms sparked interest. She had a voice of gold, a personality so bold, and he had the fill to her mold. So she thought, So she was told, Chereè was gullible a young 19 years old. She moved in with Jazzy, fell in love with him, and his savvy, way of making her feel so **** and strong. For three months he lead her on, head and *** every other night and she never recorded one song. Then he came to her and asking, "Baby do love me…Baby do you care." Thirty minutes after she finished her makeup and hair, they stared into each others eyes, he gave her a tender kiss as he caressed her thighs. "I love you girl, and I always will." As she strapped her heels, he uttered a comment about how love doesn't pay the bills. North Hollywood, for weeks the pay was good, until the night she climbed in the SUV. "What's your name sweetheart." "Whatever you want it to be." She hopped in the truck, and he had something tucked, he turned and flashed L.A.P.D. Just do me this one, and I'll let you go…and she prayed to just get back on the stroll. They went in the back seat, the ***** cop was a freak, he used his cuffs to tie up her hands and feet. She waited till he was weak, he came and then she beat, her elbows into his head and felt for the keys under the seat. He whipped out an 8 inch blade and slit her throat. He kept stabbing, and he ever choked her.....looked at the body, and rolled it over, took his cuffs and gave her a soft kiss on the shoulder, he wiped tears and blood from his face with her thong, because he told her……that'd he let her go. He dumped Chereè on the side of the road, and took off for his Beverly Hills home.………And her mother told her to be careful.

Shes poor- with a dead beat dad whom lives in the house but no connection-he stays on the couch while mother works her *** off cleaning houses and sweeping the floors of ones whoms only problem is their maunfuctioning macbooks.
shes poor with dreams-shes in college working so hard she could build a town of workers from her one mind and soul. her dedication is stronger than Lebron James to his game, stronger than Katie Ledeckys swims to win gold. She works hard and plays hard as Wiz Kalifa parades- to get that trophy of success.
shes poor with dreams and loans-she poops them out like twice a day, they pile like beyonces money by the second they pile just so she can achieve-so she can get that trophy so she can crawl her way out of her poverish ways-with a dead beat dad that lives on the couch with no connection and a mother cleaning homes of the macbook pros
shes poor with dreams and loans and now debt. She graduated highest of her class-4.0 no more no less-perfection is she, she always has been-
but none of that seemed to matter for now all that stares back at her is debt and defeat.
shes poor with no where to turn-why did she dig a deeper hole of de,bt why the hell is she paying out of her *** while the their children in college parents make double,
triple,
quadruple of her mother. Their parents can pay but because they wrote a few right answers to the test they pass with no blood on their hands-clean-
Those kids will keep the change, the change she has been trying to achieve her entire life
the change she bust her heart for
the change that will never come
in a society like ours.

it turns out i really am better off without you

i no longer wonder;
no wheres or hows,
no whoms or who’s
i set no alarms, i expect naught
everything is when it has to be
and i receive without offerings
i am filled with the abundance of me;

when i stopped loving
my heart stopped aching, you see

it also turns out i don’t miss you
i don’t grip on the past, i never have
i certainly don’t miss who i was while i was with you
it turns out i have always been better off without you
because when i am not with you
i am with me
and that is the place where i should be

i was once convinced that i would die of heartbreak
too bruised to touch, too scarred to heal
but dear god, i didn’t
surviving became my only instinct

i now know i could never go back to you
or anyone who remotely resembles you.
i will no longer eat crumbs
and dare to call myself full

in the end
i turned to forgiveness;
you’ve been forgiven

in the end
i turned to healing;
you have no debts

but in the end
the end.

your ******* are like the sea
if the sea were made of islands
of lost ****... or mice that heave dead clocks
that beat back the passage of time
as a prison... but put forth
skin as a reason to be confined.
your thighs bark humid lips
whoms bite is worse than the absent kiss.
But the kiss is too the bone...
and too tight.

when the wet hunch is fixed.

your eyes are like the warm numb
of a dread quake.
a slinking barrage of absolute sleep
stitched to the heel of a dogstar ,
coming from nowhere -
like anyone that might draw the rain
from the lip of a bee
to appease the queen of Self doubt.
but...

Thine is the kingdom
of the less joy... even as you quake
the pavilions of my hive mind
to better slaughter my lust
with your Unkindness.

I beat wings against the heart
of You.

I walk away with the goddess
that gravity
told me
too.

And that be You.

Ima just do me an let things bee...
seeing someone so envious is but a lie ,
your morality should touch the sky but don’t get it mixed with pride
for a person whoms arrogance is so high
it blinds them from seeing the true colors of the sky

words,

    spoken or written,

parchment silent

      or

****** heard

       they are like confetti

at a year end celebration

         they are like rain

and thunderstorm saturation.

         words are...

food that feed my emotions,

         words are...

soothing like the silkiest
of lotions

        they are dreams that

come to life

         they are weapons that

cut deep like a knife

         select your words with

thoughtfulness and care,

        and spill them all out

like a poet whoms heart is always there...
             bare....
             and dares,

to be rare