A Stranger’s Love (A Shadow’s Lucid Dreams)

Watching my wrists hold an abyss
as I dress in darkness
with atoms rearranged from our chemistry
to become a new me.
Thoughts from drinking.
Yet I make do.
The one thing
always dancing in my cerebellum…
is you. 
I’m not too overcome
by rum to remember good times
and then some…
Tie tied tight, embracing the night
like I might
do something right
if no one’s watching. 
Dressed to compress my insides,
like a shadow 
I’m close. 
Like a shadow
with enough light,
I’m more of a boast. 
I only exist with others.
And we’ve been dreaming awake. 
cause my eyes have seen
what we could mean
in refusing to be roused.
Though in the back drop
of us dreaming
I fell asleep again.
I want to believe 
that somehow we can be.
I grab my suit
to dress for the judging society
in which we’re living.
Then I go
to live impossible dreams. 



How will I sleep
if I keep
images of you
in my head?
I took a walk
to talk to myself
hoping you’d slip my mind
long enough to find peace.
Yet something triggers memories
till endlessly I’m thinking.
Velvet skies.
So impossible.
Vermillion plateaus.
Verdant mountains.
My ears burn
while scarlet streams roar
as I remember whore
that can’t compare anymore
to your liberty.
You are
the hill of Aripo.
Refusing to be climbed. 
The untameable wild.
The unteachable golden child. 
Why must you be conquered? 
So I shall find,
by leaving behind
clumsy desires creeping through my mind,
beauties I can grasp.

Why I Drink (An Ode to the Past I Was)

I smoke to get high
I drink for the taste
and when my taste gives out
I drink till pass out.
Cause I want to be rid of my sense
…but can’t wait for them to return.
Alcohol is poison,
but I’m trying to kill the depression
that resides inside of me.
The drinking, the getting drunk,
the waking and sobering up
are as close to me 
as the little things
like my rapping a past 
that sober me would never mention.
Or trying to kiss girls
that I had made as friends.
Perhaps for that reason.
It’s the experiences
between us that made me trust you.
…Maybe that is how I will die.
Vomiting and shivering.
I should have started to stop at 7.
But that was blasphemy
although 13 was bad luck.
In cloudy retrospect
I can’t remember where I stopped
though I began when I started to think.
…I don’t know how to stop that.
Not on my own yet.
In truth…
This is more than the drinking.
This is more than getting drunk.
This is more than the waking and sobering up.
This is a battle to keep your memories
while still trying to forget you.
I’m an imaginary friend.
I’m sorry for the lack of visits.
They were few.
You were leaving.
I couldn’t stop my life for that could I?
Should I?
For but a mere day…
why didn’t I?

Backseat Ride

After our argument,
asleep in the back seat.
Thumb in your mouth,
as if on your mother’s teat.
In my rear view.
Our words and your.
I swear I’d never help.
Yet I always do.
I want to be else where.
Yet here I again sit.
Life is too fleeting
to continue with this shit.
I am too tired
to drive too far
so we have stopped,
stranded where we are.
If I try to explain
that somehow we can’t grow
the pain in my stomach
would let me know,
you’re my responsibility
as I am yours.
No matter how we fall
we’ve become each other’s floors.
Turn signal resounding
as if announcing
that this would all turn around.
With sobs
or a coo
I’m being introduced
to a new you.
Please stay asleep.
My eyes straight ahead
despite the high beams
on the back of my head.
I fear how much trust
you have invested.
Though it was terrifying.
I confessed it.
I have a persona
of almost indifference.
Despite the fights
we have a resilience.
It’s a sorrowful thing
to cling to this sort
of strange relationship
with all the scars
from battles fought.

Waiting On

Sitting, cold,
alone. Holding a flame
on my own. Was I to blame
for love. Have I tried 
too hard? As I often have
before. I believe in God.
Though rejection makes me
unsure. I never prayed
for love. Though I’ve been told
actions make it so. 
I diverged from the story I was telling.
In wind howling, heart swelling,
I looked, waited, and sat. That idea
should be reflected upon. The small slights
make a difference. 
And it should be noted
what I have done. What I did. 

Who Am I

Let me taste syrupy sweet lies
that attracted those other flies.
This is my gift to you in July.
A personality more suited to a Gemini.
But you’re a cancer
in that you’re all over.
Were you honestly lying
when you said you’re bipolar?
You’re too kind
though only at times
when you call me beautiful
to play with my mind.
Then kiss me coldly
only to soothe me.
I know your cloudy transparency.
How clear you are to me. 
You’re hoping to find romance, 
dreaming for fantasy,
working for perfection,
but we’re too human in reality.
I saw how you became dark
to hide that away.
How you want to find true love…
perhaps one day.
And that need to be loved
has defined who you are.

My Pen is Losing Innocence

I want to be held tightly
pet my back lovingly
then slowly.
My blood pressure rising
like a heart attack
because you were my first love
before I knew the damp warmth
of dark places of many more.
Before I was deflowered
many times
by many whores.
In youth, mothers and others
spoke of us hesitantly.
Now hidden away.
Sin forced upon me.
Please comfort me.
Hold my head loosely
tracing fingers down
until I arch quickly.
Let this moment in darkness
sweep over us dreamingly
and after
let us sleep
with me in your arms.
Oh I never cared what others said
for they did not know this.
Now since we have found others
I only reminisce.
How our time together made your skin hard
yet made me harder and drained after.
If you tell others
you will hear laughter.
If you tell others
you will hear scorn
judgement at sin.
But let’s forget it all.
Hold me once again.
Hold me through it all.
The sounds of those outside,
the fear of being caught,
being seen by all.
Continue to hold me.
Exhibit bravery.
Hold me. Caress me.
No one shall come
but me.
I will change for anyone
but I want that change to only come for you.
You were my first, constant love.
And you were afraid that everyone knew.