left-justified

you felt so right, so i left…

427 miles until i reached your pillow case

and even though i sat cozy in the driver's seat of a chevy

you felt like a leap of faith

see, i was never the type to see distance and be attracted

my idea of romance existed within a 50 mile radius

but the moment we kissed, i realized what inspired Thomas Edison.

you electrocute every nerve in my nervous system that that nervous feeling is non-existent,

so when we hug, it's just natural.

like lightning imitating nature's electricity,

you are electric.

you even make 5am wake ups worth it

because the reflections of the sunrise on the windows of the city's endless hills are pretty damn reminiscent of the glare in your eyes and the smile on your face.

fuck it, im cliche.

but when i drive, i think of you.

you've embedded yourself so deep in my brain like i was a fiend that sniffed so hard,

it institutionalized me.

but i still want you bad.

something like the urge to cut lines of cocaine while going through withdrawal in rehab type of bad.

it's as if cupid lost his arrow and has been trying to shoot you with a pistol

but for the past 21 years, he was sighting incorrectly.

…until now.

books and books of words that you opened my ears to

stories upon stories that gracefully stumbled out of your lips with tantalizing diction

and still,

i have not but 1/8 of what your life has been.

a mystery to me from an island where your foundation was laid.

but i want to learn you

i want to mix smoothies with you

mix beats, mix emotions,

mix limbs.

your fiji apple lips to my strawberry kiss.

you are my muse

i haven't written in years but you make it effortless to speak

from prose to staccato to the measures of music that you make my heart groove to

beat skipping, leap frog

impactful tactics like guessing all the coordinates of my battleships.

see, i was always taught not to use "like" in my speech

but its no longer just a space filler.

it's become the filling to the space between your freckle-eyed brown eyes and mine

like that air of silence, like that air of laughter

boiling down into complete insanity of our hands pressed

singing songs to the rhythm of our heart's desires.

you make me want to jump out of excitement

but i always fall back because you've made my knees too weak to absorb the landing.

so when i land to you, i gain justification

because the moment i left, it felt so right.

freewrite

Addictive.

melt my heart and take me high

...i'm that kind of addict.

stories of overcoming toxins of a past life

not realizing the poison that's coming in.

keep it coming.

if the high fails, give me more.

...i'm that kind of addict.

everyone said i should quit

...i'm a blind kind of addict.

i inhale it, i inject it, i engulf it to the point of perceived bliss

Stop.

is this even real anymore?

does this drug even get me high

or do i just want to believe it does so much so i won't have to feel anything else?

Withdrawl.

back and forth feelings of

i need you, i miss you, i want you

realizations of

you're no good for me

you turn my veins into boiling acid disguised as blood

...still boiling.

your toxic levels rise so high, you infect everyone around you

do i still want you?

no, but that high, i'd take back any day

not from you

from Him

just another freewrite

Inspiration is so hard to come by

or so the little girl wept

explained that there's nothing in this world except corruption and negative connects

she'll connect poverty to war and connect violence into drug use

so I told her that inspiration isn't always positive

its up to the writer to portray it as positive

by all means be inspired by the ugliest things

because in reality, how inspiring really is a diamond ring

its not

I told her that corruption can be a love song and to bridge gaps between the connection of negative and positive

see like a battery you need both to work

so i'll connect poverty to humanity and connect drug use into well shit

drug use takes you beyond your average thought

and who ever said that thinking outside the box was ever a bad thing

im just saying

inspiration is not hard to come by

inspiration just a noun

a person place thing or idea

now tell me that ain't every where

freewrite (untitled)

always make new mistakes, thats what i was told.
the great minds of our generation and our generations’ pasts didn’t hold to popular belief.
they lived a life of their own.
they made a life of their own.
they sat in cafe’s listening to the rush, gush and bullshit of other people’s lives and in complete solitude understood that each blade of grass was beautiful.
great minds became great through their journeys with sex, dugs, & rock and roll.
contemplations of jazz and blues, smoking trees wrapped up in sheet music just so they can inhale each rhythm into their own lungs.
they cliff dive, bungee jump, and climb the highest structures just to say they did because experience is life’s greatest teacher.
and this teacher taught them to end each day with a new story to add to their book.

always make new mistakes, that’s what the great minds told me.
fuck the fall and how painful it can get.
as long as you get back up again, its worth all the tears, blood, and sweat.
great minds became great through the cold steel of handcuffs across their wrists after drunken nights of trying to steal cop cars, only to find their body leaning against one.
mistakes made left and right, it’s no wonder great minds think alike. they go hand in hand.

always make new mistakes, great minds once said that.
it’s not about learning from you’re past, but inventing your own history.
i’ve got text to do that, but none that can live for me.
i want to wake up at the age of 85 and have all my grandchildren listen in and think that i lived a great life.
i want the lowest of the lows so i can appreciate the highest of the highs.
i don’t want to watch history unfold in front of me, i want to hold on for my life as the folds unravel.
great minds became great through absorbing each second for it’s worth.
turning gravel and dirt into piles of gold just to say that they’re richer than earth.
and when the world stops spinning, great minds will make each mistake wisdom for it’s predecessors.
and their lives will be the spark to a new mind of a new generation.

king

i fell in love with steeze straight out of hip hop's jeans
in the belly of a beast, that's where hip hop sleeps
he lays next to me to meditate mentally
then eventually...
we build up a love that breaks all kinds of chemistry, physics, or any other science you can think of
cuz that's when true love began
and simple friendship switched off
see, i was just a baby
and well, he was already a man
getting ready to cup the world within the palm of his hand
so from then on
he became my reason of dress
the reason why i never get a steady beat coming from my chest
and yes...
that's where he is stationed
and he promised me that that's where he would stay put
i remember one day
i caught him whispering in another lover's ear
talking about, how he could love her for years
so i stop, rewind, and then i get played
and all i can think of was "...hoe."
see he gets around
but its because of him that i learned to be down and
common used to love her
and i still love him
erykah was the love of his life
and to me he's king
but he never bought me flowers or anything bling
cuz i bought that for myself
and thank god i found him cuz he instilled my sense of self
just like what travie said, and i quote
"to me she equaled MC squared and everything else was mathematics
i never took the time to practice"
but i never was a mathematics chump
so me and him, we had a linguistic love
and at age 10, i never planned to fall in love
that's just what instinct does
so i fell in love with steeze straight out of hip hop's jeans
and he'd be my king if only hip hop was a being

two minutes.

*this is no longer relevant. i wrote this a while ago while i was still lovey dovey with an ex.

I can’t paint a picture to tell you how I feel
But I can recite infinite words from infinite verses
And if for two minutes, you keep your lips sealed
I can recite you some emotions in two minute splurges
It could be me and you and our hands in between
And if I drew the hole in your heart, would you pencil me in?
I’ll create you a piece filled with nothing but whispers
In your ear, I want to…
Carelessly whisper
Sweet nothings until those nothings turn into quivers
A soft touch from our lips, they linger
But trust me, if I was just a little bit richer
I’d take you to all the galaxies
Ride a shooting star where your love can straddle me
Cradle me
In the grooves of your arms
Tell me I’m your queen and king you’re my star
Shooting distances where only your paper and my pen can meet
Like graffiti to a wall
You’re my blessing in the streets
And your heart, is my present in disguise
Silently asking to keep it by the look in my eyes
And I’ll mold your fingers to interlock with mine
Like I said in the last poem, we match
But this time it’s like good food and wine
The silhouette of our kiss is like love’s new design
And this is no longer child’s play
Cause we’re growing into refined
The syllables of your mouth are being embedded in my mind
And for some reason, that’s all I can say
It’s a night different from others with confessions made
And for tonight, I’ll wear my heart on my sleeves
Then morning, you’ll see it lay upon my jeans
Right next to “weak” whose house is in my knees
Three uttered words, let my heart be the mouth
Last confession made
My two minutes is almost out
So let me paint a picture with the words stumbling out
Let me scribble marks over yesterday’s doubts
And let me edit our emotions with today’s marks
Transform what we had into a modern day spark
And it’s pointless to tell you that I’m in love with art,
but I think you’ll like it when I say that the best part of your “heART” is the art.