Obsession

I say I can’t dance,
but that’s a lie.
Everyday, I tap and slink around
the ugliness that I barely conceal.

Rising,
and limbering and vaulting around
because I can’t bear to remain idle
and sit with my truth.

Shuffle! Spin! Slide! Repeat!
I am Astaire in his prime
staring at my reflection
waiting for the applause I so desperately need.

Tell me I’m smart. Great.
Tell me I’m perfect. Excellent.
Tell me that you need me. Divine.
Tell me…again. And again. And again.

For the rhythm of your accolades
has become my obsession
that blots out the memory of what I am.
Shuffle! Spin! Slide! Repeat!

Salvation

My angel in Damascus
was malt liquor and a colt 45.
You see?
You can’t save me.
I paid for these sins.
And will sing no songs of redemption.

Immoral

I traced her steps,
hurriedly,
as if to erase the recollection
before it set in my brain.
She paused to locate her keys,
smirking
at the fleeting innocence in my pupils.
We entered;
to a potpourri of weed and black and milds
as my conscience violently convulsed in my jeans.
I exhaled;
and summoned my demons
as I fished a condom out of my pocket.

Please Smile

A million glances and one
Can’t see what is there to be seen.
So, if this is what we are meant to be
please smile, my love.
Smile for me.
One. More. Time.

Awkward Words

To me,
Words are obtuse and awkward things.
Arranged and dressed for every occasion, but never as useful as the natural sense.
And that is life – in a way.
Exhilarating, momentary, tangible
and described by millions of obtuse and awkward things.

Keeper of the Night

I am not unnerved by the ominous scent of nightfall.
Nor am I amused by its secrets.
I do not fear the shadows because the darkness I keep, consumes me.
And the monsters that thought me prey, I devoured

Chagrin

For I have torn the hearts of women
and made murals to their chagrin.
So why should I expect glory for my handiwork
when I have earned these distrustful glances.
For those that once grieved of me, rejoice.
For I now drown in your hot, tepid tears.

For Jordan

“The officer, Roy Oliver, has not been criminally charged. A police representative for him could not be reached. Jordan, along with his two brothers and two friends, were in the car when it was fired upon last Saturday. Jordan died from a fatal gunshot wound to the head, the Dallas County Medical Examiner’s Office said….

Death

Each of us desires to be remembered.
For our legacy to be given breath
after we take our last.
Bound by some eternal code
that demands we not be forgotten.
Each of us destined for death,
yet seeking immortality.

Between Sanity

Somewhere beyond sanity
in a mental abyss
tainted by the murky remnants
of my pride and insecurities–
my soul drift.

Pregnant from the watery poison,
it darkens in hue
and sags.

A Second of Clarity

Sometimes I feel as if I’m light years away from myself,
even though I am myself
or at least pretend to be somedays.

Somehow I occupy this space,
mentally and physically
yet simultaneously leave it deserted like a forlorn passenger
sailing along the winds.

Waiting Games

How long should I linger after we’ve said goodbye?

A moment? A day? A year? A lifetime?
I watch your figure wane in my mind’s eye
while I build you a shrine in my memory.

Oh how fickle we are.
Look how you curse and beckon me in the same breath.
Am I still as handsome as you remember?
How does my name taste against your cheek?