I still can't stand this constructed coffin
Often it compresses
Thoughts, lost, because
We slow the flow, the mind
Into time, meter, the speaker
Must measure the weight of a feather
Between syllables, subliminals hide
I chide those who miss the point
I'd rather just drop words, absurd, confused, abused, worked, stress, best, chest, heart, stop, start, plot, point, eye, I, end

i thought that you were more, but you became much less
and letting you go, helped to relieve much stress
now im not upset but this aint happiness
when you left my heart there was much absence and
i cant seem to find a way to display my thoughts are all grand im just hopin for another day
to prove im not what you chose but much more than freestyles and prose
ive been thinkin since a young age, and ive been watitin for the world to turn a page, get up on life
and youth behind, cause ever since i was a kid ive been livin rhyme

one morning you will open your eyes and see that all the faces of your childhood have faded, replaced by new souls, none the better, left searching grabbing at the smoke trails of purity passed.

She shivered, arms stuffed inside her black pee coat, the cold rain poured an undeserved echo of the bitter winter passed.

Cold chasms like the space between heavenly bodies, so I walk the road into darkness, no end near nor start in sight, no left nor right, i wander west or what appears to be, i know i walk in one direction not the other three

street corners and fitted caps
read like style maps, dunks lees and tees
express oneself in varying degrees
bass beats and urban streets

The storied love of my childhood has long passed, replaced with a bitter longing, cold reality why do i feel as though all romanticism has fled our troubled veins, bled out in vanity and heartbreak

I grow weary of these entrappings,
these traveling ids, lost souls
who have long forgotten empathy

A flourescent wash dances atop the water, the sun a pale filament behind static clouds, he swam and waded against the waves, an act of defiance to time and expectation, unknowingly fighting the tide to reassure his worried mind that the boy he was remained.

Split boughs of dying breeds
shaded grey amongst the morning fog
how i long for softer days, sweeter nectar, richer wine

flashing lights warn us
rest not lest ye be judged
sleep not or you shall fall behind