tres leches 

overdosed on self control

went to rehab, detox complete

desire’s high, can not tame

an appetite that yearns to crave

outermost masks cool as ice

median enjoys the void

sweet escape in the space between

beyond it all lives the rawest nature

the inner core quakes and beams

when the trinity is magnetized

self control can not be, naturally

best to flow into eruption

best to exhale and release the steam

fermented feels turn insatiable

refuse to let desires rest

when the trinity is magnetized

fear exists in a held breath

expression births realities sought

naive believe fate’s the only god

rewards to self root in declaration

let desire be the cause

 

 

 

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i’m not being extra. 

had a beautiful cry 

like i had a blade dragged into me to remove a dormant cancer that was hidden & resting but in great magnitude. 

before this cry, i had a productive day.

i laughed and smiled.

i worked on new projects. 

i saw people who i admire.

i had endorphins flowing through my body.

i had a cry @6A after a bike ride home during a call home to my grandmother. 

it was like blockage was removed and resting pain that existed inside me exited in bulk, in the same vain of my living joy. 

i could see myself screaming as babies do when they become aware of the vast world – life replanting me from my comfort zone to one more visibly boundless.

my grandma laughed and said i’m perfect. 

may / 

Cooler than a cucumber / Flipped the pillow though / But there’s no need / Hands shaking when you touch there / You keep going / Windows run with water drops / Eyes are the windows to the soul / It’s a sun shower / Might not have noticed / On the other side of those 4 limbs / Haven’t seen you for some time / Was only warming up.
///
He said I smelled like earth / He asked where I was from / He felt Atlanta or Harlem. 

the stars still sparkle despite the mess we’ve made. dust can’t mask the truth. masks can’t hide the truth. beauty is meant to be seen despite the mess we’ve made. we are fickle creatures. we are afraid of the dark. we block the light. there are many reasons we are inferior. we make our fear superior. do we know what is more important than the mess we’ve made?

007

Sometimes I try not to think about you. Right now, I’m trying to think about you. I have met you a few times. I laughed at you when I was in high school, numb to the fact that I truly did want to get to know you. I thought I was ready to really learn everything about you when I was 19. I began to observe you, or what I thought was you. You loved illusions. I loved your game. I was so intrigued by you. I was so ready to look you in your eyes and explore you. I wanted to be consumed by you. You were everything to me, but how was this so when I still didn’t know you? I had barely scratched the surface. I thought I met you again when I moved overseas. I met someone who reminded me of you, but it was an allegory of you. I thought I saw you again in Los Angeles, twice actually. I’m still not sure if it was you. It resembled you so much. It had similar characteristics, got me high like you did, even treated me ways that you have before, sounded like you, listened like you did, but I can’t be sure as I haven’t really gotten to know you. I’m no longer going to look for you. I never really was looking. I would get a bit excited when I felt I was in your presence. I can’t help myself. You are so beautiful, so elusive, so fleeting, so flirtatious, so confusing, so challenging, so annoying, so ridiculous, or maybe it’s just because I don’t know you that well yet. I don’t even know if we have really met before. How can I be sure that it’s you next time? How can you stay longer so I can know you entirely? Sometimes I wonder if I even want to get to know you. Sometimes I think you might be a distraction for me. Sometimes I wonder if you’re really as good as you seem to be. Sometimes I wonder if you’re just an extension of my imagination. Sometimes I envision you and I see you everywhere. Sometimes that’s not enough.

Who knows how to make love stay?