Sometimes I wish my heart shrunk three sizes,
So I wouldn’t have to wear all these disguises,
Like the one where I feel no pain,
Or the one where I am completely sane.


12 Rounds

It seems my inspiration comes in waves,
Only arrives when I’m in pain, or on these rainy days.
It used to come into view, back when I loved you.
My Muse, skipping time with the dudes.
Just to be with you.
Now I’m left feeling.
Like my heart’s gone 12 rounds.
Every round I’ve been knocked down.
These punches leave me reeling.
Kneeling on the ground.
Trying to figure this whole thing out.
If love were a river, I think I’m in a drought.
What I’ve found out, I’ll never be the winner.
Been on the losing end my whole life.
I used to get KO’d every night.
Faded, like I was lacking light.
Trying to take flight, to forget this life.
Forget how lonely I am.
Forget how I have no friends.
Besides the few, one of them being you.
What am I to do.
When all I wanted was you.
You left me black and blue.
It’s nothing new, it’s surreal.
I miss the view, miss that smile.
Those brown eyes that shimmered like mahogany.
But like the latest fashions, I went out of style.
Too quickly, to put it simply.
I gave you all the life I had left.
Now I’m left drained and in distress.
Literally, I’m a mess.
I can hold myself together for a few moments at best.
Life has put me to the test, mental illness has stolen my breath.
Weighing me down like a bullet proof vest.
Not protecting my heart, just bringing me stress.

She is Electricity

Her touch brings me alive,
She is my electricity,
Her smile is brighter than a neon sign,
In a dark city,
She is an overcharged capacitor,
Of positive energy,
But she stays grounded,
Not due to gravity,
The thunder has sounded,
Her bolt of lightning found me,
The lonely tree,
I was surrounded,
By negativity,
With her positivity,
She has set me free.

7 Years of Memories

I’m going to make this poetry explode, not just off the paper.

But off my chest or I might imploded.
From all these things repressed, all the things that make me depressed.
I’m pressed to move forward, by an invisible force.
One stronger than nature, elevating me from failure.
Freed from these chains by the Savior.
Changing my behavior, trying to follow his steps.
Imprints so large, I have a lot to fill.
All I have to do is remain still.
He will push me up this hill.
The uphill battle we call life.
The view from the top though, I imagine it’s a beautiful sight.
Unlike anything we’ve seen in this life.
Treat others as you want to be treated, pick them up when they are defeated.
Love thy neighbor, just as the Savior loved the lepers, whores, merchants, the poor, sinners, saints, the ones who lost their way.
He radiated love, he didn’t have to say a single word.
Jesus looked at him, and loved him.
These scriptures paint pictures in my mind.
Making God easier to find.
In this secular state.
Leaving my false knowledge behind.
Rewinding the hands of time.
These people of knowledge making it feel like a crime.
To follow the truth.
Society tightens the noose on us Christians.
Misunderstanding our mission.
Blanketed by the Hippocrates before us.
Making it harder to move forward.
All I know every step, I’m homeward.
Every day brings us closer to judgement.
The Rapture is coming.
When, no one knows, but the book of Revelation discloses.
Information so vital.
For the spiritual survival of us all.
Signs in the heavens will present themselves.
Just wait and see.
Us Christians will be a memory.
Through the years of tribulation.
When fire rains across the whole damned nation.


It started when I was a child.
Always running wild, through the streets of my town.
Never letting anything bring me down.
Just up on that swing set, feet never touching the ground.
Now this sounds like a lyrical bit.
But I’m not lyrically gifted.
So don’t get it twisted.
Rap is my mistress, witness a poets flow.
Grow through the sound of my vocal cords.
Unable to afford, the things I needed.
Houses always heated, as a child I was misleaded.
Doubt was seeded, in my mind.
It grew to a tree, choked by the vines.
Of the lies, every time you said we were doing just fine.
Now I rhyme, to get these thoughts, off my mind.
Looking to find, some inner peace and escape my enemies.
The friends of me, the family, who liked to sip those cans, over putting food on the table.
Labeled as white trash in the mornings, my momma couldn’t support me.
Grew up horny always look for some ass.
Instead of looking to pass class.
That feeling hits you so fast, like flame to gas.
I had to pass up, things I wanted, never feeling like enough.
I’ve never been good with this family stuff.
It was rough, tough luck.
Feeling stuck in a rut, looking to snuff the doubt out.
At the root, only thing is I never knew, where that was.
Till I met the man up above.
His love guided my way, I must say.
I’m very thankful for that day, that he grabbed my hand when I lost my way.
Saved my life, twice, the price was his son’s life.
Yeah money’s nice, but Jesus was the ultimate sacrifice.
Adding the spice to my life, I was always looking for.
Feeling his presence every time, I walk through that door.
Thanks, is something I can finally afford.
Giving my life to the Lord.
Fully submitted, don’t get it twisted.
I’m no slave, I was saved by his grace, now I laugh in Satan’s face.
But my life is still at stake, in every decision I make.
So I look to his word for guidance, he supplied us with a weapon.
Against the enemy, that holy water is the remedy.
He’s a friend of me, and you.
With the Holy Spirit I’m renewed.
Forgiven the family feud, and my diluted view on love.
All thanks to the one up above.
To be honest I’m astonished, I put this together so fast.
What like 10 minutes past, and I’m almost in my last line.
These rhymes seem to find, their way to my mind.
They crawl to the surface, piecing together my purpose.
Feeling like a wordsmith, but I’m modest.
Paying homage to the only one who deserves it.
The one who placed the verses in the Apostle Paul.
The one who rules us all.
He holds to world of tomorrow in his palm.
The least we can do is worship him in song.
I know it won’t be long, till I’ll be with my father.
Not the biological, but the spiritual, the one who actually cares.
Not the one who disappeared.
Even though I look like him, in a mirror.
Living without fear.
My visions clear.
The reunion, of our peers is near.
Do I keep going, I am left never knowing.
But if these words keep flowing.
Who am I to stop the poet-ry, from flowing out of me.
Unable to cauterize the wound.
Soon, it will stop itself.
Or I will be depleted of something else.
Maybe my health.
Who knows, as long as I have my poems to vent.
And repent for my sins.
I will win, this game of life.
I feel though I’ve spun the wheel once or twice.
Landing on the unfavorable, messing with my behavioral patterns.
Distorting the atoms.
The composition of my body.
This poetry is more than a hobby.

Seasons of Love

For some reason, I know I’ll always be someone’s second.
And with the changing of the season, it will be nothing new.
The falling of leaves is nothing different.
We all know the snow follows.
So why do we act surprised.
As soon as those snowflakes start falling from the sky.
Is it because we know that the landscape will become frozen.
So when things get difficult.
All of a sudden I’m not worth it.
Like you knew it was going to happen.
The cycle of life repeats itself.
Every year the white blanket​ returns.
Every summer my stomach churns.
It wretches at the thoughts of the ones lost.
The ones who left because I was a lost cause, to them.
The best friends, turning to pretend.
In the end, my head repeats the same lines.
Why do you try to find love?
You will never be enough, for someone else.
They will never except your state of mental health.
So I’m left in a drought, unable to get a drop out.
A single bead of moisture is all I need.
To moisten my lips.
To bring my hands off my hips, that were placed there during my time of exhaustion.
During that season I was forgotten.
Like a song from the 90’s.
You can find me, buried on the shelf of dusty records.
The ones that no longer get any playtime.
Laying here waiting for someone to hit the rewind on time, to clear this dirt from the surface.
To see that I still have purpose.
Yes I’m broken, but not beyond repair.
Do I dare to ask for your help.
Or will you leave like everyone else.
Is it too much to ask for someone’s hand.
To help me up.
Is it too much to ask you to be a crutch.
That I may lean on during my time of need.
I fear my knees, can no longer support the house of stone.
This house that was built through this life I have lived alone.
This home people speak of was non existent to me.
You see, I was an alien within those walls.
My presence was unwanted, so it seemed.
Now all I want is to be free from the chains.
That have held me down.
But I cannot gather the power from my legs to get myself out.
So I will lay here and wither much like a tree in the winter.
Just wishing someone would warm my core, my soul, that is what love is for.
Not to rob one of their joy, it’s not a toy you can just play with.
I just wish someone would see this love I have inside of me.