The Other Side

She is a ghost... a goblin... It's as if its my heart she is robbin everytime i get inside her... But its the outside that scares me. not the hips, lips, curves, and thighs... but its the eyes that makes me wanna call her shawty as I urge to be her plies... Allow me to get metaphorical... she's different than the others; she's uncategorical. an anomaly... that comes to me and makes me plead, but its not for the sweets, the sheets, the strokes, the Beats... not those by Dre. But those that have me on the Other(s) side of town each day. Soul searchin,searchin for her mind, rehearsin before each time I come into her presence to ensure i do the right thng to make her shine.... Her heart shine, and that voice.... I long for when we kiss so that as the lips touch for a moment I feel as if it is mine. It's hypnotic, forcing me to loose control of all senses and increasing bloodflow to my choractic... Did I even mention she's exotic. Brazilian ass, Black class, and puerto rican sass.... the perfect combination for that spine-tingling sensation I get as she moans when I'm deep in that... class... racin, tryna solve her equation, hopin her bell doesn't ring and she has a little patience....do I chase...am I already chasin. I dnt know... Sitting here wondering, pacing. All I know is that I'm in Love with my current situation.

The Numbers Game

4-page Letter. 3 page rhyme. My mind spins 2 ways just for 1 minute of your time. She's a dime, a 10, that I'll use my 9 lives on just to say I 8 that pussy 1 time. 7 days I stayed, 6 nights, just to learn 5 minutes be4 I brought the 3rd gift I was boyfriend #2... And to think I was sure "you da 1."

Journey of a Day

Usher said "let it burn..." like that when a young girl experiences her first perm; but its hard, because my heart continuously yearns to know that its really my turn. It hurts, real bad; like I'm crushed by 666 lbs of fresh Earth. And this dirt; it can't be cleared. That's why for the first time in years I've shed my first tear. For you, this gypsie, this mystery, who somehow I allowed to get to me. Her victory, my loss. And to think I thought that I was the Boss. Tricked me; by such a sweet treat. I just don't know if this is the last week. I'm weak, weakend, and at my weakest low. I'm dug deep in a hole because I let my heart show. Do I close; or do I try and get closer. Will I end up another memory on the wall... a poster. The questions we encounter on an emotional rollercoaster.

Unrhytmic Thoughts...

The good ones go... But is that what makes them good? Because it is as if those who stay are those who leave you played. You tell yourself you will never give your heart away... again. But you find yourself with marks on your skin; both literally and mentally. These marks, are bare reminders that you are allowing yet another to get deep; beyond your thick surface hardened by a lifetime or trials and tribulations. You're patient, with this one at least. All the other good ones were let go from the beat. Told them all to hit the street; because its this one you just may keep. Slippin' up as you choose to no longer be discrete. You stop their beats. But she keeps drumming. Subtle knocks at the door, as you open the window to your soul to look out and judge rather or not you should let this one in. You're fearful, you have trust issues... you know there's something there. Something hidden, that you just want to be revealed. You sense extra baggage, your body feels extra burdens as you look out that window. You slowly draw your curtain open... and as you open it more you feel more insecure. Two truths you are given... 1 lie remains hidden... 66%. Through one more 6 and you realize you are stuck with an evil. An evil that is a truth untold. A truth that you would like to know... Or would you? What hurts more, the untold or the mysterious. Hypotheticals. Hypo= the lack there of, against, a little.... theticals= a derivative from the base of a theory. So, I am left with little to no theories about what the truth is in the last and only lie. What is this truth. What is the reassurance. What allows you to open the window... Trust. Truth= Truth, Realness, Unconditionality, Time, HONESTY. A poem ends in a story. A story turns into a tale. A tale remains a tale... A hypothetical. Unless told.