Stay thirsty, my friends.

My three least favorite words. Calling someone…

Ignorant: You are not only dissing a person’s feelings and emotions, but questioning their knowledge of other subjects. I only know a handful of people well enough to judge whether or not they are ignorant. And so far, they are all living meaningful lives in their own mind, so I simply can’t genuinely call them ignorant.

Stupid: Intelligence isn’t as natural as people think. Surely we all do stupid things. But that shouldn’t make us stupid. 

Cunt: I don’t know of a worse sounding word in the English language. CUNT. Ew. That sounds too provocative and vulgar for me to ever mention it in front of a lady.

You see, I was never in the military…

But I have this purple heart.

I got it from beating myself up

over things I can’t even control.

It’s crazy how many tears built up in the last year.

Some people express who they really are on here. They write stuff about their friends and family, yet only allow us random followers to read them. Like, for a lot of my favorite tumblrs, I feel that I know that blogger even better than their own friend or family member. So it sucks that people are anonymous sometimes, but I guess…that is their emotional gate. The thing that separates their reality from their daily life. It sucks, though; what if someone died on tumblr? That just wouldn’t be fair. Because some followers are closer than friends. And yet won’t have a chance to ever meet them.
Whatever, I be staying anonymous.  

Reflecting, yet I don’t recognize the reflection
of your beautiful diamond skin,
starry eyes, ocean hair.
Every time you breathe in and out,
I wanna touch your air,
breathe it in, just to be apart of you.
You see, from my understanding,
I’m less than sub-par to you.
But I’d do anything to be some part of you.

Your beauty consumes the weak,
so it’s only quick glances for me.
I keep my distance when
you turn men into stones,
shatter their hearts and crumble their bones.

But now, my wooden heart can’t repair itself.
Nothing could have prepared me for a war
better than love itself.
You left a scar
where my heart used to be.
You hold the pieces of the original, see…
so I made a replica of what I pictured my heart should be.
And I carved the names of those,
those who I felt deserved a place in the most precious part of me

Since April is National Poetry month, I have been writing a poem everyday. But because I am always busy, I am challenging myself to write 5 minute poems. Just spitting out all my untamed emotions for 5 minutes. It’s daily therapy, I’d say.

Reflecting back,
I was blinded by what could have been
letting her dictate my happiness
but she’s no longer my happy place.
When we text its absent of the happy face,
no longer reminisce of those happy days.

I lost myself
too busy trying to find myself in someone else,
never felt good enough.
Her embrace friend zone was like a slap in the face
claims to respect me
but shows it by ignoring me?

Respect deserves closure.
I’m left with mixed emotions
and memories of all that I did.
Never once do I remember
you going out of your way
to put a smile on my face
but you forget all the little things
I did to brighten up those dark days.

Makes me think…sometimes I wish I never met you
but in the same way I’m glad I did.
Just one more reason to forget you…

1. If I could I would nail these hands to the edges of stars. I would sacrifice this body to the sky hoping to resurrect as someone spiteful enough to not give a fuck about you.

2. Staple me to a cross. Pierce my side with a broken promise and I will bleed all the crippled reasons why you deserve one more chance.

3.Your bed smells like the last thing I was really good at.

4.You wanna know how I got these scars? I ripped every last piece of you out of my smile. 

5. I whispered you stardust.

6. I spoke you into sunflowers. 

7.I dipped my hands in forever. Touched you infinity. Treated you as if you were the last molecule of oxygen inside of a gas chamber. I was good to you.

8. You wanna know how I got these scars? I swallowed my pride and it clawed it’s way outside of my mouth. 

9. I realized I was never really your boyfriend. I was just your fuckin hype man. 

10. I hope your next boyfriend gets smallpox.

10. Yes I said smallpox!

10. I hate you!

10. I miss you!

10. I love you!

10. It’s hard for me to count when I get emotional.

10. I heard that 90% of human interaction is nonverbal so….

10. If I could I would tie your arms to a daydream and then auction you off to my fondest memories. 

See I wrote this poem in my own spinal fluid, I put it on the backbone of a white flag so before you read it you’ll already know that I’ve given up. I’ll just keep you here. Shackled to the most important chapter of my life story pressed into the basement of my eyelids like liquid salvation so I remember you beautiful with amazing underneath your wings and an orchid smile you gorgeous earthquake. You cracked hourglass with sand spilling from behind your ribs, you wasted my time.

How dare you linger on my lips and then kiss me like a stuttering apology with excuses stapled to the roof of your mouth. I still remember you like a dream  tattooed to the inner walls of a long term memory but some days I wonder if you existed at all. 

And of course, you wanna know how I got these scars. 

Well fine I’ll tell you…

I got these scars the day I fell in love with you. 

I landed face first.

I would stand to miss the fists on the battlefield
Among an army of red and an army of blue
And I stand tall and true
As I ask you
What are you fighting for?

This four foot by four foot concrete block
You’re arguing for and bartering for
Is merely a prison without bars
That still manages to arrest you by
Confining your mind
And you allow this corner to define you
And now you’re redefining yourself by calling yourself a street corner
Entrepreneur
And I ask you
What are you fighting for?

You see now you’re standing on corners
I used to call my own corners
I once considered a safe zone
And now, I’m too afraid to let my mother walk to the store alone
Cuz these streets
They’re covered with cowardly fake gangsters
And I’m angered at the nonsense
That rag on your head is somehow
Keeping knowledge from seeping into your brain
Don’t you see that you’re dying for nothing
Rather than living for something
You’re self-destructing and just fucking your own self over
And I ask you
What are you fighting for?

You’re waging wars over something that never was and never will be yours
Cuz owning the streets is just a fictitious concept
That gets misused by hip-hop dudes
Trying to pass themselves off as reincarnated gangsters
So, contrary to popular belief
no matter how deep your gang is or how much money
you’ll think you’ll make from crack rocks
The only concrete rocks you’ll ever own
are the ones that come with steel bars
Or the ones we call tombstones
So I guess the only decision left for you to choose is whether
The fabric in your casket should be red or blue
And I ask you
What are you dying for?

“Will there ever be peace?
Or all we all just headed for doom,
Still consumed by the beefs,
And I know there never be peace,
That’s why I keep my pistol when I walk the streets
Cause there can never be peace”

And I’m tired of him using me for target practice.

CAN I KICK IT with them?…

Flashy words make the world turn but it don’t turn right
Flashy words make the world turn but it don’t turn right

So I use these, real eyes to, realize the real lies being spoken but not heard ‘cause
We are more fascinated by that which are fabricated

The, iconoclastic tactless tactician aims
Tongues spits truth, words like wrecking balls
Bounce off brains ‘cause nobody likes to hear what’s going on these days it’s like
The truth hurts
And we’ve been lied to a bunch of hollowed minds living on borrowed times and
Nobody likes to hear that and nobody likes to say it either ‘cause
Lazy Angels never carry their wings and
Wingless words do nothing but keep us down so
This New York poet yells there is no satisfaction in knowing that
Your life is one of the saddest fictions ever written.

So take your not so satisfactory life back
To the Sadness Factory to
Be reworked and to
Be rewritten and to
Be reconfigured to live right.

Open your brain let your heart go
The Real You has been locked within your ribcage for too long and
Stop trying to hold on to then ‘cause that’s why it all started.
And about that same time He forgot fun
She lost hope and now We
Can’t find anything.

And I swear to God if I could swear to God I’d ask Her
What the fuck was She thinking when She gave us Free Will
‘Cause we done fucked things up ‘cause
Kids dont play and God don’t pray
‘Cause it’s out of Her hands now.

See I’ve rewritten the Bible after getting over the primal rage
Of finding my name disguised within a Bible’s page and
People trying to dissect my destiny to find that
Words somehow make the world turn but it really doesn’t turn right.
And suddenly the world stops spinning because words weren’t good enough.

So I tell you a blind man once told me the true meaning of love at first sight
So I close my eyes and I recited this poem
To a audience of one that found total gratification and my undivided attention
And when I opened my eyes I found myself standing before a mirror
Staring into the eyes of an invisible man until my pupils became pupils
And I could teach myself to live a better life.

From a piece of mind brings peace of mind all I gotta do is give a piece of mine
Only the words piece together the pieces in me to create peace within me.
But shit they are all pieces
Pieces to a puzzle which when put together, is me.

So let me tell you something
Don’t ever do anything you’re not supposed to
And speak only when spoken to
And don’t speak unless you mean
‘Cause a good man is hard to find
and a hard man is good to find
And I’m half the man I used to be and
One fourth the person I should be or could be
‘Cause I sacrificed freedom for stardom
After being fucked out of my freedom without a condom
Now how dumb was I.

Words, break these words down to the syllables
They all are the silly bulls they represent
And what do I represent?
Well it’s hard to say when my rep resents the fact that I have to question myself when each time that question represents itself.
I can, therefore I am and,
Sticks and stones may break your bones but Words will always teach you.