Wipe the Tears Up

You better wipe those tears up

cuz when I was wakin’ up

you told me to get the fuck out of your bed

instead of actin’ like a lover

you acted like i was an intruder instead

pushed me to the ground

made me protect my head

bruises on my knees

but it could have been worse if I stayed in bed

so i say please

don’t bring me back there again

false pretenses and judgments

clouds your fucking head

What person screwed you over

to make love into lead?

what completed the cycle

was it me or you with a gun beside your bed?

Fuck your bullshit

I grew up tired and weary

my eyes hurting from crying out fury

you think that makes it ok to turn my skies dreary?

negative brings negative but you can’t even hear me…

So I quiet my voice all nice

cook you dinner more than twice

make your rum and coke

so you can sleep at night

while its your poison preventing you from flight…

I hope you crash

and burn

cuz’ it might be what it takes

you can’t introspect enough

cuz you think your fate

was fucked from the beginning

a card game with no winning

but get your head out of the past

and onto less sinning….

You better wipe your own tears up

get a fucking mop

cuz every drop brings another

and your bucket has a hole in it

it just keeps raining inside

your head is full of delusions

so you stay locked up and hide…

I feel sorry for you

but I was there before

sometimes you have no choice but to break a door

and I could have been waiting on the other side

with a mountain of pride on a distant shore

but you chose to believe your own lies

chose to watch the sunset instead of the sunrise.


He stares into the night as if the road isn’t there anymore. He is driving but he appears to be floating mentally above the clouds, placing himself so high no one can catch up. Not even the pope, an oracle, Einstein, Dali, or any brilliantly crafted person could reach him. He chooses to be lost. There is the road but it goes back around in circles, creating a diversion even the strongest person could fall into. I have seen those eyes before, saddened, beat down, and fallin’ like the sword of a samurai. I don’t know when your eyes lost their color but I wish they could be restored the brightest color possible. I try to figure out all the triggers but so many exist it is nearly impossible to sustain some kind of bliss. Your mouth moves like a poem then a dagger. I blame myself but there is no way all your pain was caused by just me, you barely knew who I was. Perhaps, you could not see all your pain eventually manifested in me, like a ghost haunting a soul so I became the warrior. Left with scars, empty eggshells I once cracked to make you breakfast, I hold onto the thought the scars and eggshells will eventually just be nothing more than what they are.They will no longer remind me of suffering but of sacrifice. To change, is to sacrifice a part of yourself you no longer can be at harmony with. You were the part of myself I let go. You are a reminder pain exists but should never be laid upon another soul, already lifeless, already bruised, already out of battle. I may not be perfect but my god I have sustained myself through the impossible of times, and deserve a heart not secured by cast iron. I am too tired to peal back the layers of what is to find what was in someone. I am too broken to trust a world of creatures who move calculated rather than spirited. I will adore those who remain true and ignore those who chose a lie.

He Holds

He holds a heart

all mangled up

like ground beef

but serves it like filet mignon

hopes you’re so tired you play along

hoping you’ll just sing the same song

create a different dance…

but you tend to glance

over at the people having more fun…

At first

you do

you take it all in

and through you

then repeat, repeat, repeat…

until your heart is like his

all beat…


unable to complete..

a thought without it angled

in perfect tune

with his erratic brain waves


And he holds his hand

as if its not his own

He holds his head

as if his neck has one bone…

He holds up the sky

as if he created it…

then sails the sea

as if he put the water in it…

but he will learn

we are all creatures of a storm

trickling to our hearts

there can be an over pour

of crimson proportions

and we all must face our demons

to endure a kiss

that’s worthy of love

pure bliss…








Your Class is like Glass: Easily Breakable

Young men want to step

to me through puddles

like they can afford waterproof boots

but they got the imitation kind

the water goes all inside

and they think they can steal mine

tell me they’ll give em back

but shortly after

time runs out and

it’s more than the boots and socks

it’s about all he mocks…

about other people like himself

thinks he’s so game

but really he’s insane

cuz he thinks other people are to blame

doesn’t want to grow up

admit life is lame

with wet socks

if you can have her dry ones…

but you need to…

get your own

and live without a bone

thrown to you every time

you’re hungry…

you gotta starve.

Your class left your soul

like broken glass

so bring your trash over

pick up every piece until the last

Older men want to step

like they want some babies

let’s have a conversation

then get down to the business


cuz I need a wife

cuz I am tired

of cleaning alone

being nice

to whores for a bone…

I need a full time woman

who cooks and does my laundry…

but I want her to work

then come home, take care of me fondly…

but then there’s an army

holding grudges while she folds your laundry

cuz’ how do you expect her to mend

everything that’s broken

when you can’t comprehend

you created a situation

out of a false idea of man..

cuz you’re just a little boy

Your class left your soul

like broken glass

so bring your trash over

pick up every piece until the last

so it doesn’t come back

like your past

to repeat itself

like concrete

it bonds to itself

until there is crack

no one can deny seeing.

Waiting for the Knight

Waiting on a dark road

My lights turned off

I am waiting for a deal with the devil

Trying to sell my soul for a moment with a savior

Trying to avoid the crevices in the road

As crimson flames embark on the surface

Reminding me I am moments away from a fiery demise

And then I see his eyes

Like headlights they blind my path

Blind my perception of the world as an inevitable apocalypse

Making me question everything before this moment

When all darkness turned into light…

When all sadness turned into triumph



His eyes disintegrate time into nothing but the sand in an hourglass

As I am hoping the meantime goes fast

Knowing I could wait forever for you….


Waiting on the same ol’ dark road

My lights now turned on

I am waiting for a deal with the man in fine armor

Trying to sell my soul for the moment when his shield lies upon the ground

Trying to see beyond the protective layer he so diligently maintains

As all the battle wounds become exposed like the flames

Beneath his feet

And then I see his eyes

Like two northern stars they project light upon the universe

My universe

Blinding me from the inevitable apocalypse

Making me free from the future and past

As his armor drops around his feet

As his horse wanders off into the street

As if looking for the same kind of salvation his master finds

When his eyes meet

The woman with eyes like a serpent

But the smile of a child…


And His eyes disintegrate time into nothing but the sand in an


As I am hoping the meantime goes fast

I know I could wait forever for you

Traveling the same dark road

Making a deal with the devil

For just a glimpse into his eyes.


I Think, I Feel

I think I found him

he was hiding behind a bunch of girls

who didn’t matter at the bar

just waiting for me to come along

cuz’ I usually don’t like to be the fawn

being chase around as if I am in heat

but the fire hasn’t been lit

so I usually don’t complete

a thought with another

let alone meet

and come out of cover

but this battle has been eating me alive inside

I can only hold down my pride and try

to keep my heart from frostbite

but I somehow end up in the middle of a storm

end up the last person home…

and always alone…


he was there

in the cold

he gave the warmth

that makes me moan

bite my lip like a child

yet feel so grown…

laugh until I love

until I believe

everything done by man

can be undone

by a sincere hand…..


I think I found him

in the rhythm of his body

the instructional manual is of no use

for love this wild and loose

is rooted in past despair

of never finding anyone to care

and until our eyes met…

time didn’t exist baby

no one could save me

from hibernating

with my own frostbitten heart….

no one could break my cycle

of being torn apart

by my own nurturing hand

knew the blood on my sleeves

would eventually be seen

by the eyes who mirror mine..

and I am no longer afraid of myself

I am in essence beside myself with you…


The King of My Skies

Eyes meet

tastefully sweet

tongue speaks

and its all complete

baby you make me show teeth

and I hate doing that too much

looks kinda fake but with you

its like a piece of cake

and I want to put sprinkles on you

lick each one with my the tip of my tongue

I want to kiss your ear while your drivin’

cuz’ I know I am the only one

who can make the temperature rise

windows fog and have pride in being your woman

leaving all other men stranded at the roadside…

as we drive by watching the bad get it good

everything in the past is understood

I broke free when I took flight

in my automobile and drove that night

unknowing if I would leave with blood on my sleeve

or unable to leave your side in complete sincerity…

questioning why I am so crazy

to trust a voice

not a face

but it was the best jump I took

cuz now you cannot be reaplaced

cuz I can look into your eyes…

see the inner turmoil caused by other people’s lies…

have respect cuz you still came out of it wise

enough to see love in disguise

and I hope you will be the king of my blue skies.


Sweet and Sour

You’re so sweet

like a sour patch kid

tough exterior

but soft inside

like a little kid wanting to cry

like a person in a gutter asking why

like a lost soul able to just get by..

my lonely sour and sweet…

like forgotten milk

looks ok from the outside

but when opened it’s…

like a look from a disgruntled worker…

and if you drink it…

it’s like a person with a virus asking why

and if you keep it…

you will wish for a simple goodbye

and think…

Should have let the tears fall…

until they ran dry.