Carnage

It was the intoxication for you that made me realize that I’ve been getting drunk of the wrong things for way to long

I’ve been sober before your lips, before your hands on my hips

You made me rethink the concept of being in a state sobriety

Because I would always see my self staring at the end of a bottle for a daring push into the world of extraordinary cliches to feel a sense of normalcy, different than awkward social convention I shoved myself into 

But then I found myself drinking you, and felt at ease, felt at peace

Because liquor isn’t supposed to transform you

It’s supposed to bring out your truest shade out form the shadows

Shadows that were born out of the constricted norms embedded into my mind before I could even think about playing with my barbie dolls

And then I drank a tangy mixture of cheap vodka, expensive self-derailemt and an aftertaste of a misplaced childhood.

And for the first time in my predetermined existence

For the first time in my etiquette driven, formulaic personality

For the first time my mask fell of my face

Tumbled down on to the floor

And fell between your fingertips

For the first time I wasn’t afraid of pain

I found comfort in the scars you left on my neck

Open wounds that got infected with delusions and ill-adviced caresses

Because with every stroke they became deeper

And now here I stand

That result of your carnage

Battered black and blue but holding on to your control over me

Waiting

Waiting for you to bite deeper into me until I’m lost in my own oblivion

Only to find myself in your arms

Wanting to feel weak again

Craving the hangover 

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Revolution of the Hopeless Romantics

As I take a stroll down memory lane 

I run into the corner of nostalgia and broken hearts 

And run into the ghost of the past 

That leads me down three sharp turns 

And I end up un the end of Bull Shit Ave.

Right where it meets with Honesty Hour Street 

I’m faced with a huge cement bunker 

At the top in huge letters it says

“Institute of higher love”

I walk right up to it high and mighty 

With my heart on my sleeve 

And my dignity hanging by a thread 

Holding on to my independence

Can’t loose it in the mind games 

Can’t loose myself in the secret glances 

Or in the hand holding 

Or in the full words with empty meanings 

I can’t loose myself 

Cause I’m burning this place down 

From the inside 

And watching the false hope and promises of all the aching hearts 

Burn up in the smoke of the revolution  

One Way Ticket

This is an assignment I worked on that I ended up loving. It’s a remix of one of the great Langton Hughes poem ‘One Way Ticket’

I pick up my life,

And take it with me,

And put it in a jar of

Insecurities, Innocence

Hopeless romance,

Next to ingenuity

And no confidence

I pick up my life

And take it on a journey

To the corner of 39th and 9th

To the booth where your lips touched mine.

A place that distance is nothing

I am fed up with the laws of logic

People who think

Yet do not ponder

Who are scared of walking backwards

And leave the romantics out to dry

I pick up my dignity

And take it away

On a one-way-ticket

Gone up into the stars

Gone out into nothingness

Gone, just gone