funny how some things
come back around,
you find the things you lost
were never really found,
and the things you found,
you found in being lost,
and your yesterday’s
fade to afterthoughts,
but thoughts, nonetheless
and that’s when you confess
who you were yesterday,
hasn’t run that far away.
when life gives you shit,
turn that shit into bricks of
gold, feel me nigga?
do you remember
yourself before your ego
swallowed you whole?
Aw thank you :) Much love.
is there anyone who has website building skills and thinks i’m/my poetry is awesome enough to lend me your skills for free?
do i have any followers who are business/techy/entrepreneur/fast company reading geeks who want to be my friend and talk about business plans and project ideas for fun
b/c i’m in need of creative business friends srsly
when you’re in love,
are you supposed to write
beautiful things about being in love?
because for me,
it’s as if every time i try
to write about it,
the keys underneath my fingers
crush from the force of our
thick, sultry, encapsulating
passion for each other.
(breakfast in bed)
i want to wake up
between your legs, have your brown
sugar for breakfast
lick your sticky sweet
icing up from your rising,
warm chocolate center
*make love to you, and
call it a sunday morning
breakfast in bed.
Drowning: A Six Step Process
You know every other full moon, the tide rises over twelve feet tall.
Yet, you still wade in the water, because where else would you go?
You love the sea, more than air you breathe.
You are going to drown. You know this.
As you watch the first wave begin to grow with every rolling inch,
You think, maybe it doesn’t have to end like this.
Maybe I can swim with the wave.
But you know you can’t swim. Not under a 12-foot wave and speeding
You take a deep breathe before it hits you.
Turns your life upside down.
Squeezes your heart.
Takes your breath away.
You withstand the blows each ripple delivers onto you in every direction.
You let it hit you.
You wonder how long you can hold your breath underwater.
Then, you wonder how long you can’t.
You fight the current you’ve been swept under, but can’t reach the top.
So you tell yourself, “I’m going to reach the top. I’m almost there.”
You tell yourself, you’re not going to drown this time.
You tell yourself, maybe tomorrow but today I’m not going to drown.
You tell yourself that today is not the day that you let go.
But you knew today was the day, when you saw the full moon last night.
You knew today was the day when you stood in the water, waiting.
You knew you were about to lose yourself, to the very thing you loved.
You see a light.
You don’t know if it’s the surface or the light.
You just hope, the light doesn’t see you cry.
Doesn’t see you go limp, grow still.
How do you let the light in without seeing you cry?
Without watching you crumble?
You wonder if you ask the light to look away, maybe it’ll listen.
Unfortunately, I don’t know if the light listens or not.
Because I’m still standing in the water,
Waiting for a 12-foot wave that I know is rising, to meet me at the shore,
And drown me.
Six word story:
Then, she finally wrote her poem.