We go to those we trust
Because even if they hurt us
The least we know’s they care
And knowing that much
Sometimes is enough.
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Our eyes told stories
I’ll always remember that day
And keep it as a reminder—
That day in which you looked my way
And I didn’t have a clue who you were
And you didn’t have a clue who I was
That day in which our eyes told stories—
As to what is most important.
So if and when we lose our way, I know
Together we’ll find ourselves again—
Where eyes can say what words cannot express—
And stories, we, can only tell together.
The Devil to one is God to another.
The Devil to one
is God to another.
It’s a cycle continued
that is, until
we stop looking to the sky,
stop burying our trauma,
and look our neighbor
dead in the eye,
without retaliation or judgement
and listen, to one another’s heart
which beats to the same rhythm
as a newborn babe
that is, until
birth begins
its earthly decay.
Whatever you decide, do it without the need for validation—we are one.
Whatever you decide, do it without the need for validation.
To seek validity is but a farce. It’s like aiming to make a splash in a rain puddle.
A child learns early on whether they care to admit it or not, that their choice is theirs and theirs alone. Nobody really cares more than it takes them to realize, eventually with age, that nobody really cares.
Sure, a mother cares deeply, but only as far as it interrupts her well being.
A father can break his back many times, but only as many times as it serves his cause.
Progression doesn’t come from an audience. Progression comes from within.
Progression comes from love, awareness, and nurture.
And although social media tells a different story from reality, we seek it, crave it, we often need it, but do we really?
Perhaps the greatest lesson we can learn from posting our day to day lives, morality, and hardships is that we are all equally as alone as we are the same—myself included.
Not too long ago, there was a time, it seemed, the world was much larger than we could ever imagine.
Driving cross country felt then like an achievement whereas now—after doing it more than a dozen times—it feels more like a routine I’d rather not admit.
Mostly it’s this that scares me.
Desensitization. It’s this that makes me wonder.
What’s the point?
The point is to treat yourself with the same dignity you would a stranger—a child.
The point is to look beyond life’s blessings, with eyes wide shut, and understand that all will be regardless of whatever validation you seek.
We can learn this by simply looking at a flower bloom. We can understand this by accepting that although, it may seem, the flower dies, another will take its place, as equally and wholly as beautiful as its former.
So whatever you decide, decide knowing, you aren’t as separate as you feel—we are all one.
In the presence of family, be only with family.
In the presence of family,
be only with family.
Put aside the work and worry.
It’ll be there when you part.
And enjoy one another
as if each member of your family
were a dish at the dinner table.
Fill yourself with their essence.
Allow them like nutrients
to replenish your mind, body, and soul
so that when you leave one another
you’ll do so knowing
their presence is with you
for better or worse, forever and onward—
second star to the right and straight on till morning.
The slammed door and the silence
The slammed door said I’m hurting.
The silence said I’m scared.
The walls between us listened
when no one seemed to care.
The portraits on the wall,
oh how they seemed stare,
where deep within night
the stars poured ever clear.
The door knob turned eventually
as silence did it’s head,
the sea between us parted and
the portraits went to bed.
While all the world was sleeping
with all their monsters fed,
the boy and girl slept soundly
no sooner had they met.
Cupid’s always looking in
This life’s a beautiful disaster penned one summer long ago
I mean who was I kidding just a kid on the East Coast
So I took my car and drove off found myself out on the road
I was so sure I was different but so scared of letting go
Had this girl her name was pure like it was written in the stars
I first met her in the backseat of my good friends mother’s car
And I don’t quite know how it happened tangled alone in the dark
But she showed me true compassion for a badly broken heart
And if you ever saw the way her fingers danced upon my hand
Love’s an infinite reminder I just couldn’t understand
She was beautiful regardless of the way things had to end
I’m just happy to have seen her grown and happy as a friend
Somewhere before and after I had lost my innocence
Was a child when I said come on let’s go what’s happening
Like a judge biting my tongue so long held on to my defense
Till one day it all poured out like a volcano from my head
You talk too much don’t talk enough try this paper and pen
I think that it’ll help to write it down is what she said
And of course guess what it happened but this time in a kitchen
We were kindred drunk and carefree at first sight I do admit
I wasn’t looking for a lover in retrospect needed a friend
But that’s the way it happens Cupid’s always looking in
When she took me without question I knew something had to give
Had more talent in her pinky than I swear I ever did
And she tried hard to convince me I was good at fitting in
Still my anger got the best of me and then the fear to live
See it took 6 months of depression just to make one decision
I would have should have could have now son that’s no way to live
I thought if I just disappear perhaps I’d be no one’s burden
But learned life is a disaster that you somehow have to live
So I packed my bags one day and gave myself unto the wind
Hell I’ve been kicking rocks forever so I’m hella used to it
See there’s no way of ever knowing how tomorrow’s gonna end
You just get up brush your hair and then go do it again
Still love’s an infinite reminder I’ve tried so hard to understand
It always makes more sense when you’re left with empty hands
Like a psychic I am reading all the lines riddles and man
I can see it all so clearly first accept yourself and then
Maybe you get lucky one day in Central Park
Or perhaps while spilling coffee on a stranger after dark
There’s a reason for each season as one ends one’s soon to start
It only takes a moment kiddo ready on your mark
Juliet
She was warm and aware
Her bright eyes full of care
By the moon she was fair
as light danced through her hair
Like a sound, Juliet
she spoke wise with regret
Where I found it quite strange
by the light steady rain
Where footprints should have been
she had gone with the wind
While I lay awoken
by the rays of her infinite light
It’s too early to be tired and I’m tired again.
It’s
too
early
to
be
tired
and
I’m
tired
again.
Not
the
I’ve
been
on
my
feet
all
day
tired.
No.
It’s
that
special
kind
of
tired
we
don’t
dare
speak.
It’s
the
reason
we
stand
all
day
on
our
feet.
Yes.
It’s
that
special
kind
of
truth
we
work
so
hard
to
forget.
Until
we
remember,
no
longer
able
to
sleep.
Words Of An Average White Male 