Year one.

I drink- most days i drink most days- i blaze most days I

think too much about thinking too much i think about-

moving forward moving often going in the right direction

I'm more wide eyed in comparison with my generation

sleeps often we sleep and let moments begin to bleed

towards what we need a little more drink i drink most days

we're on the peripheral of the future we're going to/

too close to three times in a row the same goals become full circle

still i still move forward my legs pedal to a future where i can settle

for the biggest, baddest, buffest house slash girl slash car slash life

slash you get me!

I would have told you.

If we're being honest,
London is just another city
living in new yorks shadow
we want their skyscrapers
music, movies and ghetto

I'm not good at planning my sleeps.
I stay up, keep on till i collapse.
Get up, stay up and then repeat.
As if i stretch everything but my limbs
it doesn't make sense-
I'm a hare without ignorance
so how come when even at full speed
that turtle beats me to the finish?

Is it karma?
I'm in the desert, with no partner,
and am jealous, because,
they're on the same trip
but get replenished, with kisses.

If we're being honest,
I often question if
my dignity is worth it
and start a relationship
with a girl i don't really
like being with.
I'm already married to a city
that i don't really like living in.
At night i eat burger king,
watching american television
all day long it's neil young and joe budden-
to regress i guess i can be blinded by my vision/

I wonder if wise men wish for more wisdom.
Others are ahead of me but honestly I'm indifferent.
I complain only to liven the conversation.
My train of thought has no station- so the day i reach
the finish line is the day i reach a more astral destination.
On a mission to sprint through a marathon
I pay no attention to my competition.
Our maps have a alternate direction,
we look through different lenses.
I just need some friendship and guidance
instead of the fleeting meetings and fucks
I am grateful for but, like.
I wonder for how long I'm going to be doing the rounds
and if I don't like, them, what am i going towards?
I love my city but i know that i'll be loved abroad
but i know she needs mine more.

lights please.

We're settled in,
in a way thats unsettling,
How it reminds me of a situation
that i keep thinking i've forgotten.
It's wanting the contradiction,
falling into the love you shouldn't let in
The sweetness has me weakened.
we're hammered to break barriers.
I don't know what we're doing
until we're doing it and then,
we tell each other to not do it again.
and again. And again. And again.
Honestly I'd do it forever if i could
but we never seem to go from
where we are to what becomes
in the topics of conversation.

It's part of the routine now, I suppose.

A few drinks to excuse our
actions, and when we get home I know

we're not going to kiss until

the lights are off and our eyes are closed.

I could be disposed of and replaced
in the dark and i wonder if you'd know.
I'm scared of asking in case it's true,
i freak out at the idea of being used-
every time. would you get it if i left?
am i more than a friend when in your bed?
is what I'm writing not to be questioned?
no one ever told me to live in the moment.
I break and analyse the situation
in a quest for atonement, fix what went wrong.
I've been too far gone for far too long,
We can't escape from playing to the same song
I'm deaf to every other musician and instrument
only you know how hard it is for me to get intimate.
step back though we both need to breathe for a minute.
I might fuck this up. But if we never went out,
how could we ever break up?
It's the spaces in between that define who we are
All i want to do is fill every crack in your broken heart.
my bed isn't kept empty, not when it has me.
It isn't kept pristine either, it has me ashamed when you come over
and i hate it when you say you have to leave
you've got my room cleaned, and sheets changed.
I guess I'm catching feelings, don't know how i caught them.
If i took them from someone else, maybe to "take" is the right route.
It seems to be what other dudes do, some people don't let lovers choose
I don't want to give you that choice because I know what you'd say.
So i'll order another round and avoid conversation on what we'll do,
When we can't believe that they've closed the tubes
and you'll stay over because there's no other route
and i'll take what i can because I'm in love with you.
I'll play any role in your life, whether as a friend or a man to use.
Not that i feel used. It's magic, what you do, i mean it feels good.
I just think i need some time away, i know that if you talked back right now.
It's exactly what you'd say. Step back young one. You need to breathe a minute.
I can't really complain though when I'm so close, it'd just, mean a lot
for you to take me as i am, not with the lights off, and your eyes closed.

Wallflower.

I wasn't born a wall-flower or, 
whatever.
But as times passed, 
I admit,
It's become harder to dance.
Not that I can't. I can. I used to. A lot.
and It's not that i forgot- it was blueprint two.
Alone in my room
"songs for the deaf" while on my paper route
(paper rout? paper route)
With my first weeks wages i upgraded
my tapes for a CD player
That skipped nearly every time i stepped
(which only resulted in me becoming
more light- footed)
And I'm not saying i was good
It was just being able to feel what i felt
I never knew you had to body-pop,
or try hard.
First time in company, i tried to dance
and ended up in a circle holding a pint glass
watching others watching others-
Humans conforming to the dancers rhythm
You could of blamed it on the crowd i was in
when i stood out i got beat down (figuratively)
I had to take my left feet out, shake it all off
and take my hokey pokey to a place where
my moves didn't get lost.
I met a girl
befriended others
became a stranger
and not necessarily in that order.
All I've really done is run from
one circle to another- 
and in-between songs
got in a slow dance
living out a fate
that's borderline cliched
playing the same part
in the same play
As an out of place player
in a game with people i hate
I would leave but I'm too afraid
Because nearly everyone i know
laughs at those who dance alone
and i wouldn't mind as much
if i hadn't actually found a connection
if i knew i matched with another's rhythm.

ice grill.

Expectation makes the heartbreak worse.
Build up the love only to watch the bubble burst.
It shoves you into a point of view you can't reverse.
I try to remember it makes you wiser, there's a gift
in this curse.
I put in the work to put change in her purse.
The cameras will catch a million women following
my hearse
and all I hope is that they bury me next to my first.

True story.

There's this girl who hangs on every word i say

and I can't lie, about her i act the exact same way

but we have so many mutual friends and jaded

concepts on relationships in our way, we'd have

to get really really really really drunk to make

anything more than verbal foreplay okay.

and awake the next day like "did- did we do that?

I can't believe it... no way... want to do it again?"

It's been so long since I've let someone else in,

I'm a little scared my depth has run into the pen

thoughts and secrets i thought I'd never tell anyone

have turned into confessions to anyone who's prepared to listen.

Dude. It's not all about the attention. I've just had enough

of keeping the countless number of regrets

of what i should have said in (me. it's not healthy)

So while this girl i like and i haven't got together yet

at least putting this down is a sign of progress

Or I'm just telling letting everyone in on a secret

apart from the one person who deserves to hear it?

get me.

grown upper.

The confusion makes my heart pump,

or maybe it's the love, maybe it's not

and that's how the confusion actually starts.

I don't know where i stand with you

I know i want to stand next to you

because so far i haven't found it hard to

We're both on a similar route

and it's a chosen path

and it was was only for a friend,

you asked, for nothing but reached

I grabbed your hand- got submerged

in wisdom beyond comprehension

roles flipping and trading confession

for secret, they spilled onto the pages

not poems, still letters- still progression.

i never thought we'd get get to this level

that we'd get deep with that initial reach

that you'd be the new 'you' i talk of,

In poems that I'm scared to let go of.

(not caring shouldn't be this hard.

on a quest to forget my past),

I have to keep going forward,

even if i don't know what it's towards,

it's worse than i thought,

feeling better than i ever could of,

loving the one person who would be better off-

without, and I'm self-conscious with the put-out

scared to go past the make-out so i pull out,

just stay sat down, shut-out with arms crossed

don't get in, don't make love, so long since

I've been touched, born fuck-up couldn't admit

to being in love, wouldn't die before i evolved

guess i got into growing up, making up with

those pulling me down yet you saw me drown.

Submerged, and unearthed this rebirth-
that part of growing up is about feeling hurt
and to not admit you're lost just makes it worse.

I love again and I'm benefitted with this peripheral,

whether I'm "in" love or not is inconsequential,

I don't let the rain fall, I know what i can't control.