The Sun

I always thought I knew what the sun was I’d see it in photos and on screens – even catching a glimpse every now and then But it wasn’t until I felt its warmth was when I realized how nice it was As I rolled my neck back, closed my eyes, feeling its embrace “So […]

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I keep hoping for things to get better But life hasn’t settled at all It’s like I’m staring at a dry planted seed hoping for it to grow when I have a leaking hose right next to me And as I wish for that seed to blossom I know that nothing is going to change

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Maybe if I told myself “I’m fine” enough eventually I’d believe it Or perhaps if I smiled in the mirror more I could see it But those things don’t validate the 3 am runs Those things don’t validate, staying awake till I see the sun Or validate how I see that my fate has some

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For Forever

When did it start This feeling of home When did this feeling of familiarity start to settle in At what point did home feel less like home than here right now When did those faces become so familiar that they made us feel warm inside And when did I start changing because of it Because

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Admit It

It’s like you miss her But you won’t ever admit it You low key dissed her But you’d rather dismiss it And now you’re creeping on her page seeing new pics of her And it hurts to say she’s beautiful and you cannot forget it

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Fresh Air

Beautiful, intelligent, and snarky Three things she has in spades But it’s not the same old air Breathing in day in and day out while feeling bored No, it’s fresh air It’s obviously there, but it’s still feels new It’s obviously there, but it doesn’t feel used It’s exciting and different and has it’s own

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It’s easy to fall back into the trap To stumble into a cycle that does not forgive To for a moment not be conscience of repeating a mistake But I try my best in remembering to forget Of all the shared experiences and anxious lines Of all the songs that were shared and walks up

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A Piece of Cake

It was a Saturday night in a friend’s backyard Where I noticed a girl who had up her guard This yard was dark it was dimly lit but I saw her essence from across the pit Of weeds and bottles and clouds of smoke, there she was The model of grace with a face that

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