music i guess

i treat your body better than i do mine
i grew up in rainy weather while yours
is divine sun-kissed sublime still fighting
for a piece of your time trying my best lines
re-drafting back-breaking heart-aching-rhymes
until another takes my time, silly dame
never could the bitch be mine, in my brain,
to love another, it'd be a crime, I take aim
at any woman who prepares to give love,
i shall take your tokens, emotions and rings
make em my tings where now once, anothers
maybe an ex who gave them away when he used be
believing in lovers was he loved by another? worn
denim means he was once warm an'im thinking colder
makes me regret giving you my favourite jumper.
I mean, where is my cover? (to show, for me,
how far you will go?)none of you will know, but i will.
its hidin Alicia Keys choruses, and Jay-Z's verses.


so lets hear it for new york.

upon a kiss.

a williamsburg evening
a poetry reading
and those words that
did delcare
my dispair, she,
left them for the air
the parisian
the hardness of her
the softness within
rolling warmth
nothing to do,
but fall in

(Really though
she was pretty i mean.. really really truly.
so much so i don't think i've ever
had a girl like her.
those jeans. that hair. even the jumper!
a night where life gets, better
you feel, stronger
to the point that
those lonely nights before
where worth it
like i had to take that road
in order to deserve it)

starts, a joke, a dare
wondering how far one would go
and then laughter died
upon a kiss,
and the smile remained
yet changed
moved from polite laughter boulevard
to satisfied hunger drive for
another, she wrapped
unfolded to her
entrances. passes. hands
on riding chests- some -
screaming mess as hair
swooshed(!) in a sweaty manner, wrangled n' pushed
upon.
upon I
while the lay-laying
on my words of despair
though true, (well it was true once-
every lie has been
(upon I. ) once
upon her. )
shaking greenpoint Y
Manhattan outside
the skyline was
upon I was
upon she
was upon my words
the words

What's inside

When the moon falls to the bottom of the sky
And the plants reach feathered clouds
My headed thoughts of pillows
Filled with black haired widows ugly
Blonde monsters at least ultimate warriors
Un-starved vultures to be the prettiest
Of all.
When my mind can comprehend
A helping hand cannot repent I shall
Breathe sea air. Jump from the rocks into despair
Hoping for a woman, longing for a friend
Begging for a sibling to hear my to hear my
Cry for a little more time. 
A day to get my shit
Together so I can weather the storm that is life
Because whatever thunder does,
If it is not for my advantage it will hurt
Hits not through but just in
like a slow bullet shot from
an old gun at the hands of a
classic cowboy wearing tattered rags
Worn out shoes; moccas I could only
Hope to walk a mile in.
Thoughts of cowboys eventually lead
to thoughts of you
the way most thoughts eventually do, 
I grab a backpack and fill it with
the memories of a kite hill view
a smile of someone I thought I knew
two lost heartbeats and a crickelwood crew
but nothing from you apart from the feeling
of horses riding without owners you distilled in me
and sadly, cream. Fortunately, dream: nothing
but a thing. and age ain't nothin' but a number
so like a fine wine I'll slumber
in the middle of summer of middle-
Oh America
I am yours.
the same way to the grave a hurst roars
or panic towards the sight of unlocked doors
So when the sun rises higher than heaven
and when the love of one stops me guessin'
and when we're all alone., together.
Have him hold my place for now honey
so when I get my shit together
(as I said earlier)
The storm that is life can just feel like a
summer breeze so weez wheeze like
our heart has sneezed at my shocking
nose bleedz. so he can take my place
but let him know, any time I want it
I could take it, but something inside me says
if i had it, I probably wouldn't even want it
so let me run. run like sonic collecting
golden rings chaos emeralds only things;
just like dreams. Just like age. Just like money,
and I think of money
and just as always
I think of you
and how you struggled, what you had to go through
Oh America
I am you!
Razor love is playing.
I wonder if my love could cut clean through
and just like all wonder
if things could get better if they found something new
what do you want with me?
some days you forget how I should be dealt with
but it's my fault.
I keep forgetting the very sight of you
causes pain but i love you so much
I'll do it again.
and i think of hurt
and just like all thoughts...
Oh America
Help me pull through.

same old.

1.

Hanging out with sadness makes one lonely

for sadness always makes terrible company

but when all talent you find becomes weary

and when it's said love gets in the way of success

(especially if you're in love with an actress)

one would wonder;

isn't love-when shared- a success in itself?

Or just a veil masking your global inadequacy?

I'm banking on the latter

2.

waiting for father and roswell plays

but my mind cannot help but stray

i wonder if she cares still

if she knows where i can be found

maybe its the result of a rebound

entirely probable statistically

logical, at least with the pen and pad

there is still entertainment to be had

but chest aches, every time

a breath escapes the shoulders fall

the eysbrows tense and always

walking serious. hah. supposedly

To get L-one off a mind there are possibilities

a fuck that is quick should do the trick

but to go down any old road again is a trek

swear down one must get out of L-D-N

cannot walk down same old buildings again

Every week is the same cycle.

only thing one should really do is escapeescapeescape!

E-to the- L ope. S-to the-O how 

                                                  'bout 

                                                   we 

                                                   go 

                                                   chi-ca-go!