diamond club at the phils aint what it used to be (bring back ‘08)
visiting the homie
just a lil something i painted
007 life

"I wonder how many times my neighbors have seen me naked through my windows because my blinds are open and my lights are on"- an autobiography

the rain does not distinguish

there is something tragically simple and

devastatingly beautiful

in the way the sky opens up and drops its tears

onto the writhing river

waiting to be shushed to a dead calm by the rhythm of the

falling drops

i dont know why the raging water stills

like a crying baby rocked to sleep

why the swirling torrents take

a breath

and sigh away their fight

at the first patter

of droplets on their surface

a breathtaking sight

if you gift yourself with the chance to see it

storm dripping from your hair and

clothes and eyelashes

while the rain falls softly

and silences the breathing river

slows the slight rise and fall

of your sighing chest

almost

today i let frustration get the best of me

as hot angry tears slipped down my face

the salty taste of ‘what if’ on my lips

and the red burning of ‘too late’ in my eyes

17 yrs 364 days 23 hrs

in one hour i will be an adult, and what have i learned?

ive learned that crying doesnt always feel good

and hugs arent always wanted

ive learned that loving someone for long enough

means forgetting what they look like

ive learned that when someone hurts you

not everyone remembers to not like that person for you

ive learned that puppies and sunlight can make me smile

and too much happiness can make me cry

ive learned that there is no worse feeling than giving your true best effort

and having it not be enough

ive learned you can never get enough sleep

and you can never spend too much time singing

ive learned that for every person who takes the time to dislike you

there are 3 who would gladly offer you love

and ive learned that i have learned an impossible amount

and still know nothing at all

-17.364.23

ben franklin bridge

broken sonata

every night

a silent symphony of sadness plays inside me

sometimes softly and drifting and heartbroken

sometimes pounding and earsplitting and rampant

trying

trying to get out

and every now and then

when toxins seep through my veins

when eyelids surrender and drop like lead

a part escapes

an out of tune string section

or a harsh jumbled line

never flowing out the way it should

no sense

no audience

my concert hall is empty