Saboteur (Poem)

It’s scary how things can get so dark so fast A cave so deep that the darkness is blinding The longer you’re trapped the blinder you get Until you can’t remember what it was like to see Staggering around in anguish Struggling to latch onto a reason to live Nostalgia amounts to the type of affliction that decimates every last hope left within Until your corpse lives on right beside you Doing things you would have never did

Grown Man Child (Poem)

When I was a child I talked like a child I said mean things to mask how I really felt Berated people with insults because I was emotionally and phonetically impaired Ran my mouth to anyone who would listen because God forbid if everyone doesn’t know my business

What you’re not gonna do… (Poem)

This is what you’re not gonna do You’re not getting loud in my face You’re not gonna text me with your dickshit Or talk to me any typa way This is what you’re not gonna say You’re not gonna say you’re the big man You’re not gonna tell me I’m a dirtbag Or that I need to suck a nigga dick

Unpacking? (Poem)

Terror Beneath the fog Among the thorns Inside a box High on a shelf Behind the curtain Around a cell So neatly packed and put away At times it seems surreal The struggles that it took to put a box upon a shelf Maybe if I pull it down and take a peek inside I’ll sweat relief in finding it was all a mess of mind Yeah right…

Life is Stupid and it Sucks (Lyrics)

Life is stupid OoOh oOoh And it sucks Life is awful bum bum And so dumb I Have a roof Over My head I have pillows on my warm bed I am plump Cuz I’m well fed I Have a story Cuz I’m not dead

Feelings (Poem)

Why do feelings have names? When they all feel the same When they school in clusters And get preyed on by lames When you can’t find them out Cuz they’re not what you sought When feelings aren’t facts And neither are thoughts

Deftly Made (Poem)

I got a five inch belt of lazy ass strapped around head I’d rather lay around and daydream than go out and race the day My mattress is dressed with melodrama My pillows are stuffed with fear

Some Kind of Special (Poem)

If you say it twice it’s probably important If you say it until you forget the point The only one you’re convincing is you What lies we tell ourselves? When we forget who we really are When we never knew who we were to begin with When we let others determine our worth

The Sorry Train (Poem)

I ducked and rolled and skinned my ass I was the happiest I had ever been Jumping off the Sorry Train was the best thing I ever did Misery loves company But the party is always wack

Battle Scars (Poem)

A silent cinema tattered on my face A symphony only I can hear Monotonous reminders of every shortcoming A memorial of war souvenirs Mirror mirror Tell me a lie Quash the battle waging inside