Words Unsaid

I'm a prisoner
Of words unsaid
Just lonely feelings
Locked away in my head

I trap myself further
Every time I stay quiet
I should start to speak
But I stop and stay silent
And now I've made
My own hard bed
Inside a prison of words unsaid

Not a prisoner of war
A prisoner of words
Like a soldier
I'm a fighter
Yet these words aren’t mine
Often I only say
What you wanna hear
Could you take it if I came clear?

No. Like puppet for you
Following every move.

I guess that's what I am
Scraping this cold earth
For a piece of myself
For peace in myself
It'd be easier if we all were same
If you locked me away
I'd have someone to blame
But these bars of steel are of my making
They surround my mind
And have me shaking
My hands are cuffed behind my back
I'm a prisoner of the worst kind, in fact
A prisoner of compromise
Run too fast to be old
Forget what I’m told
Ain't I a sight to behold?
A prisoner of age dying to be young
To my head is my hand with a gun
And it's cold and it's hard
Cause there's nowhere to run
When you've caged yourself
By holding your tongue
I'm a prisoner
Of words unsaid
Just lonely feelings
Locked away in my head
It's like solitary confinement
Every time I stay quiet
I should start to speak
But I stop and stay silent
You want a piece of my mind

To give you peace of mind

All you need is a piece of mine

I don’t want to give you anything

But I know that you’ll take it

You can, and you have, and you will

I tried stopping you before but I don’t try anymore

So I hide behind walls and locked doors

Not the same walls and doors that you’ve thrown me against

No these ones will just stay in my mind

But my mind just might leave me bihind

With the words that I can’t ever find

Real Talk

If you really knew me, you'd know that I'm terrified of open water, I've never been to Disneyland, and I like feeling alone. If you really knew me, you'd know that I hate the sound of crying, I discriminate the racists, and I fight the fear of flying. If you really knew me, you'd know that I'm more feared than I'm respected, I've never broken a bone, and I'm terrified of being rejected. If you really knew me, you'd know that I hate spiders, but I don't mind snakes. I hate bringing in the garbage cans, and I get chills when I hear thunder. If you really knew me, you'd know that I love the smell of rain, hate the smell of coffee, and have more fears than memories. If you really knew me, you'd know that I've learned not to get attached to things, or people, or dreams. You'd know that I love big houses and fast cars. I believe that money really can buy happiness, and that I've never been to the ocean. If you really knew me, you'd know that I am weaker than I look, but stronger than I feel. I have one too many plans, and way too little time. If you really knew me, you'd know that I've been to hell and back - it's not as bad as they say it is. I've cried myself to sleep, and I hate how dramatic girls can be. If you really knew me, you'd know that I want to get away. I'd go anywhere if I could. I'm gonna be an EMT, I hate when people hold grudges, and I pack a mean punch. If you really knew me... well, now you kind of do.

Ordinary World

He sits by the bus stop. Maybe today someone will notice him. His mother left over a week ago. She told him to stay here. He hasn't eaten in days. He is hungry, tired, alone. The ground is cold. His clothes are torn. He sleeps under the bus stop bench. He sees the same people everyday. And everyday, they pretend not to see him. They look at him like he's a criminal. But how could he be? He's only eight. He sits and he wonders why he is here. But things will not change, not in an ordinary world.

nothing changes

We see everything but beauty.
We hear everything but music.
We want everything but pain.
We taste everything but love.
We touch everything but happiness.

And then you open your eyes,
and nothing changes.

will you?

Where are you going? He asks.

I cant explain. I say.
When will you be back? He questions.

I cant come back. I say.

Why are you leaving? He wonders.

I can't be happy here. I say.

Will you write me? He pleads.

I wont. I say.

Will you loose yourself? He asks.

I will try.

Some roads never end

compromise

Almost There

Otherside

sleep

Talk to myself again, all alone, on my own
Walk by the scene again, just to see what people see
Caught in your stubborn hold, I'm so far from home

So turn the lights on, keep the lights on
Turn the lights on for me
Don't go to sleep

Lost in your thoughts again, consciously you think of me
Focus on your perfect words, with a pen you write me in
I can't be reached so far from here, I need you near

So turn the lights on, keep the lights on
Turn the lights on for me
Don't go to sleep

Courage

Speaking of courage, I don't have any. I am scared of everything.
I'm scared that I will get lost in the ocean.
I'm scared of open water.
I'm scared of spiders.
I'm scared of cliffs.
I'm scared that I will go blind.
I'm scared of screaming.
I'm scared of loosing.
I'm scared of winning.
I'm scared of myself.
I'm scared of everyone else.
I'm scared that no matter how hard I try, I will never be noticed.
I'm scared that one day I will come home, and my family will be dead.
I'm scared that one night I will be taken from my bed.
I'm scared of strangers.
I'm scared that I will never be remembered.
I'm scared that everyone will remember me, for all the wrong reasons.
I'm scared that I will never reach my goals.
I'm scared that I will have to live on the streets.
I'm scared of becoming paralyzed.
I'm scared of death.
Hell, I'm scared of life.
Don't ask me about courage, because I don't have any.

Our Voice

It’s a language. It’s a code. This is how we tell our story. This is how we show the world who we are, in a world that sometimes doesn’t want to hear it. The body becomes the instrument to communicate how the music runs through your body, through your veins. Its delivery through your movements is how you find your voice, and ultimately, how you tell your story. Your krumping might be a comma. Your battles could be a question mark. People are always wondering what your next move is going to be. It’s bigger than the exclamation mark, it’s bigger than just the downrock. This isn’t comic books, it’s more like literature. It’s a poem, and the way your moves work together is the rhyme. It doesn’t just sit on the surface, it’s under your skin. We have this thing we do; we dance. We hop to what’s hip. It’s our language, it’s our code, it’s our voice. It’s more than just a hobby, it’s a lifestyle. It’s what makes us who we are, and who we always will be.

life and death

Life was born when Death died
Death to live had tried and tried
but Life arrived smiling with glee
Death's death had set Life free
Death's funeral was a happy one
but Death's death will be undone
I know one day Death will live
to Life will I not a funeral give
let tears fall when Life decides to die
in death maybe Life won't be so shy
all we can do is hope and pray
that Life will postpone that sorrowful day
and if that day will tomorrow come
Life and Death will come undone

too young to die

I wish I could be there with you,
To help you move along
But I know that I can’t come yet,
I just pray that you’ll stay strong. I can see how much you’re hurting,
I watch how much you cry,
I know how hard this is for you,
But you’re too young to die.

Fear

It's a little black monster that hitches a ride on your back wherever you go. It holds tightly to your neck so that you will never forget its presence. When you begin to feel inspired, uplifted, or free, it gets jealous. It wraps its arms around your head and covers your eyes; blinding you. It doesn't want you to let go. It wants you to merely survive, not live. Some people carry it willingly, others fight harder to make it let go. But when you fight it, it fights back. It pulls on your hair and scratches your skin. It kicks you in the stomach and gets in your head. It is a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, or pain. Whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling is always present.

Everybody is afraid of something. Not everybody expressess fear, but they all experience it. Everyone is familiar with that dispairing emotion. Everyone knows what it feels like to be crippled by something they cannot control; something they can't seem to get rid of.

I'm not scared of spiders or snakes or hights. I don't scream when I watch scary movies, or when I almost crash the car. I'm not afraid of life, and I'm not afraid of death. I don't mind climbing, and I don't fear falling. I fear failure. I fear that one day I will mess up so badly, that what I have done is hopelessly irriversable. I fear that one day someone will need me, and I will not know how to help them. This fear defines me. This single fear is what makes me who I am. It is what makes you who you are. You can either carry it, or fight it. It will probably fight back, but you need to decide if the risk is worth it. There is a big difference between survivng your life, and living it.

Judgement Day

The medic stood and faced his God,
Upon his judgment day.
He hoped his uniform was clean,
unsure what God would say.
"Step forward now, paramedic.
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To my word have you been true?"
The medic squared his shoulders and said,
"No Lord I guess I ain't,
cause those of us who wade in blood,
can't always be a saint.
I've had to work most Sundays,
and at times my talk was tough.
There were times my faith had faltered,
‘cause the job is awful rough.
But I never took a penny
that wasn't mine to keep.
I worked a lot of overtime,
when the bills got really steep.

We both already know,

I wasn’t in it for the pay.

I wasn’t in it for the glory,

And until my dying day,

I never passed a cry for help,

though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I wept unmanly tears.
I know there is no place for me,
among the people here.
They never wanted me around,
except to calm their fears.
If you have a place for me,
it needn't be so grand.
I’ll be forever grateful if you do,
But if you don't I understand."
There was silence all around the throne,
where saints had often trod.
As there medic waited quietly
for the judgment of his God.
"Step forward now, paramedic,
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on heavens streets,
You've done your time in hell."

I'm thinking about you

I’m thinking about you. I’m thinking about you like a best friend should. I’m thinking about all the times that we had while you were here. I can remember. I remember everything. I remember every time we got in trouble. I remember every time we got in a fight. I remember every time you made me laugh, and every time you made me cry. I remember it, and I think about it. I think about it all the time. I think about how things used to be. I’m thinking about how you didn’t have to die. You shouldn’t have died. I’m thinking about what I could have done to make you see how much life is worth it. I’m thinking about how I should have done things differently. I’m still thinking about you. I’m thinking about you, and how you always had my back. I’m wishing that you knew that I always had yours, too. I’m thinking about your funeral. I’m thinking about how I thought I couldn’t cry anymore. I’m thinking about looking down at you, and thought how different you looked when you weren’t smiling. I’m thinking about how I wish I could make you smile again. I’m thinking about how much I wish I could hear your laugh, just one more time. I’m thinking about you like a best friend should. I’m thinking about you. Everyday. All the time.

The Boy in Black

I never really fit in much,
I never had any friends.
I never even told a joke,
And I never wore the trends.

Red and Blue are my favorite colors,
Well, at least they used to be,
But now they only bring me dread,
I’m not afraid – I refuse to be.

The first group of friends I ever made,
They promised I’d have fun
They were all a lot older than me,
And they always carried guns.

They took me underneath a bridge,
Around 3:00 A.M.,
They beat me till I couldn’t move
Then I was one of them.

You represent a color,
A name, or neighborhood.
You’re taught to feel inadequate,
Violent, misunderstood.

Red and blue bandanas,
red and blue lights,
red blood blue bruises
and you‘re bleeding through the night.


I’m not sure why I am doing this
But that's the oath I swore.
Now everyday and every night,
I’m a prisoner of war.

We divide the world up into blocks,
And imprison ourselves inside.
And when one of them crosses the street,
That’s when the sides collide

Inside this territorial prison,
You feel no worth for your own soul,
Because you’re locked in here forever,
With no probation or parole.

We’re recruiting people to our side,
One after another.

But yet I pray to God,
That they won’t find my little brother

If one of our men is taken out,
Someone else has got to pay.
And when we show up on their block,
They know they will die today.

Red and blue are the most common,
But after every night’s attack,
If there’s a body in the street,
I see the boy in black.

I’ve never seen his face,
And I hope I never do.
But I have a feeling that he’ll come for me,
Before he comes for you.

I go out around eleven,
I’m in hell another night.
There’s bullets flying everywhere,
Another pointless fight.

I see someone running towards me,
And everything seems to mute.
I pull my gun out from my pocket
I cock it and I shoot.

Another life I’ve taken
I pretend I’m not afraid
But a bullet has no conscience
It’s just another price to pay

I look into the face,
Of the one that I just killed.
My little brother’s lying there,
My soul finally drilled.

The boy in black appears,
A pause in time and space,
The boy in black is me,
And he has my broken face.

I never should have come here,
Now I know I won’t see heaven.
I know don’t belong here,
Because I am only seven.

love

Love is a complicated thing. Some people love too much, others not enough. From where I'm standing, love is more than just a deep affection for someone or something. Love is your independence, your foundation, your soul. Once you give it away, you can no longer stand on your own. People often say that life is empty without love. I agree, in some ways. You don’t have to love somebody. And no one has to love you. But if you go through your days without loving anything, then life isn’t worth living. Without passion, desire, or dreams, you can’t expect happiness. But then again, maybe you don’t want it. Maybe you’re like me, so used to being miserable that once happiness comes along, you shoot it down. Not liking the difference, not expecting the change. Whether you love or not is up to you. But you should love. Not someone, but something. Anything. When you love something, you may no longer be able to stand on your own, but when you’re standing, you’re just standing. You can’t stand and fly at the same time.

made of me

I'm not outgoing. I'm not brave. I'm not even imaginative. But this isn't about me. This is about street gangs and def poets. This is about cloudy nights and cold skin. This is about all the times you feel fear, and all those songs on your iPod that you don't know why you have. This is about everything. anything. This is a chance when I can say what I want to say, exactly how I want to say it.

God created the world in seven days, and it takes as little as seven seconds, for mine to shatter. My world rides a roller coaster. It straps itself in and throws it's hands in the air. And while everyone else enjoys the ride, I'm sitting there thinking "Why the hell did I get on?"

It doesn't get better than this.

There isn't much to say about me. I am hard as rock, invincible, and breakable. While my exterior may come across as warm and alive, inside I am cold, and barely breathing. But I'm not dead, yet. I am not weak. I have been broken, beaten, and betrayed, but here I am.

Still standing.

The people around me? They do everything they can to get skinnier, prettier, smarter. But when I look around I see fat, ugly, stupid people. I'm not pessimistic. I just prefer to see beauty in the world, rather than the people in it. I enjoy things that are real. And not many people fit that description.

I spend most of my time exploring my own mind. So I guess this blog is a chance for you to come along.

Take it or leave it.