Poetry · Writing

righteous movement

i wonder what you think of me

if you think at all

if you wave white flags for surrender

or who you pray to

if culture was the start-

was that you?

you’ve been on my mind

debating to see if you can see me

a little different

not ready for that conversation but

i can see it going there

when i am ready we will

maybe

Poetry · Writing

i am hotpocket

i don’t stand a chance

against the sun

but someone has to

he stands tall without a rival

burning the less worthy

like a hot pocket

going around in a circle

unopposed

talkin’ reckless

can never get near ’em

that’s not the world i want to remember

if i exist

will my face be in tact

slippin’ off a plate

wet dishes

if we exist

past four hundred times

over three hundred tics

Poetry · Writing

never one

to ask for help

rather bleed on the sidewalk

then ask for aid

at the tip of the blade

they prayed

then betrayed

all digging a grave with a heavy spade

no tombstones no markings

prepared for that future;

seems further by the day

Poetry · Writing

riley

it has been awhile

but i’m here

bleeding from my wrist

but i’m here

this wasn’t always the truth

absant more times then present

just so i could give something on christmas

i know they judge me

can see it in the corner of their eyes

never blinked twice

took their eye off me

i move past ’em

never stood still long enough

to tell ’em i missed ’em

i regret that

i know they judge me

i’m sorry pops

tattoos below my elbows,

i want them to judge me