spoken word
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The tilt of you, the fractures where the light slips in. I trace your doubts like constellations. Your mistakes beg for reverence, a desperate proof of life. I shaped you into a vision without weight, perfection hollowing all meaning until I warped your memory just to survive. There is no hesitation in standing bare, skin
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I once lived in the warmth of brown eyes, Believing they held all the light I needed. A gaze that wrapped my world in quiet surrender, Whispering promises, bending reason. But in a single moment, the color shifted, And what I knew unraveled into blue. Brown dissolved into a distant echo, While blue became the
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In the search for love, perhaps all a soul truly needs is to be present in Manhattan. Falling in love with New York City is a perilous affair, for it is not merely the city itself that captivates us, but rather the person we aspire to become, leaving behind the mediocrity of our past. When
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A Made Man sacrifices company for comfort. Frightened by peers’ lack of ambition, Comforted by a friend’s success; There is something endearing about a fear of inadequacy. The desire to be more, to want more, to do more, Paraded as an addiction. We rather lay our head at the feet of faith, than to dig
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Reminded of forgotten desires. Dark, with television to lighten the rich, brown, mahogany, that is my skin. So soft. Addicted to touch. My hips seared by your fingertips. Shadows danced on the walls as you gave the phantom kisses that reside on my thighs. The music background noise to your name, as if it was the
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If you hear me grant me peace for a minute. I can not live with this chaos. I am a dim flame that dances to keep others warm. Do you understand? Do you even care? Is my voice like the morning birds singing their tune; do you listen for your amusement? If we are to believe; we
Wishful Thinking 