So soooo behind, Life has been hectic. So Im just going to continue posting there will be 30 poems on this blog eventually.

Day ?

I was your instrumental once

horns round philadelphia suns

808s pulsating in pavement

I prompted those adlibs

I taught you how to ride a beat

sampled my dimple

looped it around your index

and pressed play

I hid inspiration

in the dead of autumns crunch

beneath black soles

for you to find

before you removed your tims

for me to rub

snare drum thumbs

into the arch of your foot

My grandmother

will never understand

the music we love in

she will however, recognize

the rhythm in our steps

the bass in my gaze

steady

trying to synthesize with

my acoustic guitar of a heart

with my eyelids like strings

plucked open with each

strum of your fingers

on the small of my back

Each silence a raindrop

gaining momentum

and multiplying into

a symphony splashing,

reverberating

on my tender tenor eardrums

your baritone roams the aqueduct

behind my eyes

and when I cry

it is not for loss

I am only flesh

just limbs

and extremities clamoring

scratched throat

swollen eyes

standing

pleading

for you to see me

I am only this flesh

The music in my walk

will never play through speakers

The melody in my voice

can not be re-mastered

I am only these bones

not drumsticks to beat

the heart into your lyrics

I am only this flesh

A back alley masterpiece

a street scene

wind caught

in a young woman's strands

a man cleaning

the dirt from his

childs hands

Open mouthed laughter

and the decaying molars

in the back

The first flower

to open on the first

day of spring

I am all of these

and the colors in between

I am not an EP

not a mixtape

I am just flesh

All of the things you

wont see with your ears open

and your eyes down

head bobbing

I just wish

you were

a visual learner

Haiku:

I can not love a

man who looks like me because

well, I mean...because

Day ??

I am leaving

it is in my way

I am my fathers daughter

I am leaving

it is in my way

My mothers firstborn

ushered me with phantom hands

they still linger

on my back

I feel the pressure there sometimes

I am leaving

it is in my way

my steps are always urgent

my feet lead me

as if I always have somewhere to be

I can only stand still

in constant motion

Again what Day is it??

I am letting you go

although I never had you

I seem unable to comprehend

these days

limited concepts of human interaction

I get ahead of myself

like too hard

too fast

because ive known

the hollow of

missing emotion

Im just trying to fill

my heart with as much

as I can find

as quickly as possible

That is an ugly place