The Morning After

Sigh
Just last night
We were lost together
We found ourselves
In the middle of nowhere
But we were still together
Just last night
My toes talked to my headboard
While my head tossed and jerked at the thought
Just last night
You were drinking from my fountains
You always loved freshwater
Just last night
Was the best time of my life
And the worst
Just last night
You told me things
You wouldn't repeat
You would never say something you didn't mean
You meant it last night
But not
This morning
I woke up alone
looking dead on the outside
But I'm more dead inside
This morning
you found it easy to forget about me
You have bigger projects to do
I'm just a charity case
This morning
I bit my lips
I still tasted you
You
you kissed me last night
I took it for granted not knowing that would be the last one
This morning
You think back
You had this all planned out
I was too naive to see
Your blueprint laid out in front of me

Lucid dreams

Everyone tells you to never give up on your dreams. That with hard work and if you never lose hope and never lose sight of whats really important to you, that's you'll get to where you wanna be. Then why, after so long, are you still dreaming?

dreams
ain't nothing but a reminder
reminds you of what you haven't achieved
shows you that your goals have not been reached
because sometimes they can't be
sometimes they're simply to far
out of reach

nightmares
those I like
you can't be scared of something that's never happened
can't trip over something behind you
meaning you've already conquered your fear once
you'll do it again

waking up
from a dream
brings you down
depresses you
because
it will almost always
stay a dream

Good Enough

Have you ever put your all into something but ended up with a half ass result? You begin to question why you put so much effort in to it in the first place. For a while I was in this mindset where I felt as if no matter what I strive for, no matter how badly I wanted it, that my efforts were as good as nothing. I'd rather be let down knowing that I didn't try my hardest because that to me help ease the pain of rejection. 


Good Enough

I can never give 100%
anymore
my 100 amounts to a 50
and I refuse to try twice as hard
physically cannot
seems like I'm never what anyone needs
rather give 90

nothing hurts more than failure
after you've tried your hardest

Glass table girl

If you listen to The Weeknd you'll understand what this poem is about. Abel (The Weeknd) in many of his older songs sings about a mysterious party girl who is somewhat classy yet trashy. She's "Pretty", has the style, and just like Abel, she pops pills, drinks alcohol and smokes weed. They're a perfect match except for the fact that know that she has met him, she wants him and only him and as we all know, Abel is a "Rolling Stone". At times, he'll want to settle down with her but he's too "High for This". His "Wicked Games" are the reason for why he "Belongs to the World" so in order to be with him she eventually gets with the program and keeps their relationship strictly "Professional". This is what shes become routine to after tasting the "King of the Fall".



Glass table girl

A sip of liquor before every picture

Dying inside meanwhile she smiles

Takes her pills with her to every party just so she can go mix it with Bacardi

She takes a hit then goes to sit

and flirt with niggas till someone lucks it

out with her

So much doubt with her 

Her pussy aint got no walls

Yet she's never satisfied at all

She knows what she wants

The nigga whose response came with such nonchalance that it haunts

her mind

Why did he decline

Thoughts racing through her head do nothing but remind her of how much she pined to be intertwined with the man she enshrined after just one wine and dine. 

Those horid thoughts, designed to undermine her sanity unless she take the time to realign

This nigga must be blind

Yeah, shes hot but shes nothing more than a classy thot

With high hopes she sought for that number one spot

despite the fact that through experience she taught herself how to squat her dripping twat down unto whoever brought the best pot to the turn up

Red eyes in her close up

She's so high that she wonders if she'll wake up

Morning comes and she has succumb

to all the drugs that numbed while she danced to the beat of his drum

Poetry club is a plus!!

Wednesday of this week, I joined the poetry club at the library down the street from my school. I felt like an outsider because I was surrounded by people who would be outsiders at my school. They most likely are to be honest. Over time I grew slightly more comfortable, especially because our mentor Shadia Garrison, is simple an angel. After a while I grew even more comfortable as I met a girl who shared the same taste in poetry as I did. Our first writing assignment was to write about a some random character named Rosaline in some candy shop, In 20 minutes. Now mind you, I am impatient but I don't do well, at all, under pressure like time limits. But after wasting a good 10 minutes, my creative juices started flowing and I feel like this poem really encompasses my writing style and its pretty decent.


Rosaline


Her side swept bangs
grazed her eyelashes
sheltering her dark green eyes
protecting them
She cant look me in the eye


Sour gummy Lifesavers?
no no no
But I miss seeing her face when She puckers up
those lips that match her cheeks
That's my Rose
that was


Strawberry twizzlers?
her long strawberry blonde hair
twisting apart, her curls sway back and forth down her back
as She runs away


Gumdrops?
as my tears roll onto my phone screen
trying to call her back
but She's long gone


Fueling with rage I bit my tootsie pop
my lips start to bleed
I need to leave this store
The way She left me