twenty

it was good lounging around
sleeping and sighing and screwing around
blinds drawn, open close
inhale, exhale
wondrous endorphins, riding this high

it was our little world, save us from them
the oppressors, the people who didn’t -get- it
it was good hanging around
running and hiding from responsibilities
growing up, growing old
decisions i didn’t want to face
hide under the covers and procrastinate

it was hard, riding home
no call, no message, no fuck given
i sat on the greyhound, quietly crying
the whole two hour ride home

it was a memory when i was twenty
thick and heavy, sweet like honey
swimming in sin and escaping responsibility
inevitably wondering,
do you still think of me

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twenty

chasing pavements

i find it strange my brain still wants to write about you
just has no energy to actually produce worthy content
what else can i say that i haven’t already in some shape or form
i know i’d want to say something like, bullshit you miss me
with clever anecdotes that help captivate an audience
but, with time, it’s all slowly slipping away
it first started when i couldn’t bring myself to feel pain anymore
self inflicting wounds, times infinity
and then i began exploring possibilities without you
developing the -slightest- interest in someone other than you
at first, it felt like betrayal
all the time and thought i invested in just you
how dare i even -consider- opening up your terrain
a space of black matter you inadvertently occupied all this time
no, for the first time in a long time, i put someone else on the shrine
momentarily, just to see how i like it maybe
and for the first time, in a long time, i feel like i’m actually moving on.

chasing pavements

dream

Trust is weird, comfort is dangerous, and your eyes are full
A delicate silhouette, rising and falling
I can almost trace out the second
I realized you were in love with someone
Pure wonder in a dream wasteland
The careful concave, automatic exhale
A woven story, determined to fail.

dream

Growing up

Ain’t nothing the same anymore. I can’t believe we all grew up together.
we all have certain chapters dedicated to certain people
we threw the ink on page and slashed out those who no longer served us
we felt their essence try to break through our story
bleeding through the paper, pens pressing too hard
scars that last forever, a lasting memory, abominable art
we say words we don’t mean, apologies in silence
catharsis in the needle, a world apart fighting isis
terrorism on the planet won’t grant us poetic justice.

Growing up

The Medium

I knew the medium long before it knew me
I knew its dysfunction, disrespect
Increasing control and manipulation

I knew its trials and tribulations
Fought hard against assimilation

I knew the secrets we had to share
I knew the solace in pacts
Found family in friends
Wellbeing in tact

I knew the long hours we stood
Under pointless administration
Clocking in and out timecards
Our minds hidden in salvation

I knew the ones who worked hard
Hustled out with no options
Came back on home turf
Facing nothing but morons

I knew the promises we broke
The lash out was justified
Kindness and consideration
Is what we now swear by

I knew the medium long before it knew me
If we’re so unstoppable now
Just breathe, breathe
Breathe.

The Medium

college through the lens

i see the flux
past paper and shoes
white erasers, blue packaging
alternative skaters
hold on to what’s true

a well oiled machine
or a man-made weapon
a fight against humanity
or a tragic debt strategy

they flush in like tides
swelling and receding
half distant, half smiling
on the fifty, on the half, and on the hour

the unspoken word
written in graffiti
a wise but true saying
laced like the islands of Fiji

absorb what you know
pump and dump academics
realize political gain
pump and dump integration

what you learn most
is in between the lines
a faulty version system
of hiding what it denies

this all too well known expression
that “a university is a business”
but only in the rat chase
do you realize the consequence

the world at large,
not different from you and me,
the system is rigged
beat the system and you’re free.

 

college through the lens

small talk

Sometimes you see people
you want to know who broke their heart
the time they scraped their knee falling out of a tree
or the words a family member jokingly passed along
reaping deepest insecurities for years to come

you want to know what song makes them pull over
or what painting invigorates the lost life and spark
you want to know who stole their innocence
their happiness their free will, break their apathy
who taught them sarcasm, wit, crude humor

But these things you don’t just learn
they take concentrated effort
So when people ask me why I’m so opposed and cold and annoyed
About small talk
it’s because all this, right here
weighs infinitely more
than your favorite color or tv show.

small talk