Forever The Name On My Lips

I'm not in love.

I know I'm not.

But here I am - waiting. I am always waiting for you. I'm waiting for you to take notice to see what I always saw in you.

I'm waiting for you to see a picture of me and wish you were in it too.

I'm waiting for you to wait for a text, a phone call, an anything from me.

I'm waiting...

But I'm not in love.


So what am I waiting for?

I'm waiting for a love as intense as what we used to have.

I'm waiting for the sparks I got when we used to make love.

I am waiting for a love like I had with you.


I haven't found it yet.

So until then, I wait and waste my time with you and our memories - hoping, hoping someone will come and give me new ones.

Until then, I wait for you to want me as much as I've wanted you. I don't want the love. I want the validation.

I want you to feel the want I've felt for years.


Maybe then, I'll be able to turn my back and walk away.


Maybe then, we'll be even.

Darkened

It happens the same way every time...

You know the signs.

You walk into the darkness.

You follow his laugh.

It's so familiar, like a guiding light bringing you home.

It melts your heart.

And after all this time, raises goosebumps on your skin.

You're blinded by the darkness but you'll tackle it if it's the only pathway to him.

You get there.

He speaks.

The words you always longed to hear.

But the words that actions never cared to back up.

It's painful every time.

You doubt yourself every time.

But like every time, you'll follow his voice again into the darkness. 

Uploaded videos (playlist)

Pronouns

I am not "you" and though you may not understand - "you" is not a makeshift character.

"You" is "her" and "she" I will never be.

The flow of hurt that ebbs from your words,

the pain,

the stretch,

the outreach of hands that close on emptiness.

"You"

 "She" I will never be. 

You say there is "nothing"

But "nothing" seems to last forever.

How I long to change who I am,

No,

what I am.

To alter my pronoun

to become

"You"

Your words now lack pictures

Your pictures lack inspiration

Inspiration was "she"

"You"

The "you" I will never be.

So I paint this debacle the best way I know how.

In a picasso of sorts

But instead of shapes

I use pronouns.

I,

Her,

He,

She,

It,

Them

"You"

Composition Notebook

We are never so vulnerable than when we trust someone - but paradoxically, if we cannot trust, neither can we find love or joy. - Walter Anderson 

Blank pages spew out of this torn notebook

Like trust, broken 

the pages continue to spill out, unstoppable.

They're words written on these lost pages

Words of love and happiness

but

the pages continue to spill out, unstoppable.

All my words

My precious memories

Now running wild across the floor

I have no choice but to close the book

Slam it shut

The front cover glares back at me

All the pages have been torn out

Nothing left to do but throw away the empty shell.

It's useless now.

All this "trust."

"I Do"

When did marriage become such a burden?

An entrapment?

Filled with lies and hurt,

worry and curt.

Sarcastic remarks,

then love's been lost.

We share the bills and a bed.

And haven't touched each other

Since the honeymoon,

No kisses goodbye.

It's like a job,

Our montonous lives.

The pendulum swings,

the clock ticks down. 

Eventually, I don't want you around.

"You need to go!

You don't do anything here!

You think I don't know

who you've been bringing here?"

This home is my prison,

you, my prison warden.

I'm here for the children,

You're just an added "bonus."

This is how it is?

What God intended?

When did those two words become so fateful?

Marking an ending.

But this is what I want..

I want to try.

To prove that marriage won't be my demise.

Yes, we are able to love forever.

It's all about just keeping this shit together. 

And if by chance it ends,

I know I haven't made the same mistakes

My parent's did.

WorldStar HipHop Rethought

411

I call for information.

Can you tell me the reason

behind this generation?

Why our youth can't comprehend

a simple command.

Why our young girls,

give so much to a man.

All this sucking and fucking

excuse my language baby Jesus.

I thought sex was something to initimate.

Now they belittle us.

Us women, 

our bodies.

Do men even empathsize?

Our bodies birth,

our nipples nurture,

our skin soothes

our hands touch.

A touch so generous,

to the children who fuss.

I want to be loved by a man,

not loved by those worldstar fans.

This is my worldstar UNCUT.

Can you handle it?

No? You'd rather see me strip?

Naked?

Down to my soul?

The heart you're breaking?

I will change the world.

I will achieve my goals.

My first accomplishment,

get to these hoes.

Break through their videos,

to the Michelle Obama's within.

You don't need to suck dick on worldstar

to win anything.