Hopelessly in awe
clung to the sleeves that once held
hearts—I adore you.

That’s five hundred and thirty seven posts
plied to poetic lies, lined within the sentiments of wasted time,
taken into account the minutes ticking away with every line,
and if on average you spent sixty seconds on every rhyme
that’d be nine hours I wasted, out of each of your lives,
divided by the nights spent rereading types of typed jargon
dissembling minds between hyped margins, let me remind you,
that I am just another failure, trapped in this life too,
thinking numbers mean more than what they add up to…
But if there’s anything I learned, it’s not what you amount to,
it’s what you do with the product, when it’s no longer about you…

Robbed of ability,
stability now throbbing to maintain,
I shackled chains around my mind
hoping thoughts won’t get away.
I used to take for granted
all these things that fade away,
not realizing the hardest thing to lose
would be the friend I pushed away.

I want you.
Spread upon these sheets dripping,
the way ink stains through composition
come position yourself on me,
armed with nothing more than your imagination
aim concentration on my articulated thoughts,
arch backs, ‘til tongues part paths
across maps, come conquer me past
the point of no return.

Like hip hop, it goes on and on…

You are hip hop.
Rhythm and intellect,
mixed intricately
rooted to rep loyally,
you are my queen.
The sound of poetry
when you speak, sparks
hearts like bass beats
when we meet,
I’ll march endlessly,
‘til defeat, and
still love you,
even after the vinyls scratch off
and repeat….

I find myself fixating on these dreams,
charades of the heart where I heal these broken parts of our smiles
with miles of forget me not flowers,
grown from the gallons of tears that once washed away my pride,
I swear I love you.
Like hip hop and gigantic space rocks,
flung upon the ripples of this universal thought,
I heart you, dearly.
And some how with random chance you got to know me,
past the printed words spoken through painted metaphors
I must adore you.
To the point of wishful thinking, praying fate won’t keep me waiting,
gravitating to this point,
I find myself saying…

Silenced by the breakdown of angels,
she now cries beneath rose painted pedals of pain, tainted
by the same screams that once deafened her to shame.

I pray, one day these songs will set her free.

Problems,
all of a sudden shuffled into our deck,
and I keep on pulling cards that I regret, man
this hand just wasn’t meant for me…
Lucked out, or maybe odds were set against me,
never in our favor, or maybe this dealer just has it out for me,
call it karma, for every mistake I’ve ever committed,
or ass hole act that I intended,
for every time that I pretended to give a fuck,
I’d pray to be forgiven.
Give every last buck if it’d make a difference,
write a thousand words to make revisions,
I’d give every last nerve to stop incisions,
I wish that you could feel this.
My eye lids like damns, to keep the tears in
while you think I don’t give a damn, and the fears in-
tense like I keep on shifting
though the blame keeps pushing against us,
and the weight sets in, but my impatience
takes it’s toll, and I’m out of cents man
I can’t afford the nuisance, I’m going crazy with out you
and honestly I just feel robbed, I doubt you understand,
feeling like I’ve set out to hurt you,
I promise, I hurt as bad, though it hurts worse
to be without you, I just wish you’d understand…

Perfection,
bound to the hands of the controller,
so effortlessly you are played,
maneuvered like a marionette doll
moving by the force of a higher power,
but you are not a puppet,
carved from scratch of another’s dreams,
seamed with hopes to falsify your breathing,
so don’t be moved by just anyone
trying to control your fate,
believing that they know what is best for you.
Jealousy is pulling strings to limit you,
boxing you away from destiny,
you are what amazing means
and you deserve to explore, at any means,
for you are not a puppet.
You are the effort that keeps me going,
the hope, that keeps me floating,
you are the exception to religions,
because I believe in you.

Ode to those who’ve never made it.
Poems that weren’t quit perfectly poetic
tucked between the delete button and save,
created just to be put away, needless to say
you were never good enough.
Just a rough draft that never made it to print
scripted to ideas that were too played out to begin with
made out as important, but your potency was limited
and instead of finishing sentences your words weren’t worth the reading.
And instead of proper burials, burnings or even toilet bowl flushings
I leave you flourishing for a hope that will never come.
An applause that remains unsung like the heroes you will never be
because honestly there’s already a million stories
just. like. you.
and yet you remain hesitant,
blindly believing in a fate that will never come
drafted among the backdrop of thoughts,
forever, tumbling not.