til i ***

Whatever feeling, whatever thought, whatever I transmit 

is and will be open to criticism 

It only comes with being an artist

Someone passionate for the things they create 

Getting off to feelings and experiences 

Wanting your audience to see the feeling 

Feel the visual, breathe the sounds in 

Documenting the human experience thru your neuron patterns 

Lucky if we find someone that shares the same colored mind 

I’m not entertaining you today, you say? 

Maybe I’m starting to grow tired of everything that isn’t me or mine

Maybe I’m tired of writing love poems that I should’ve never wrote

Maybe this internet love story that never existed is getting too long

Maybe due to my self sabotage

Maybe due to your Gen Z attention span 

Regardless I love my babies

Sorry I’m too busy, suffering in ways that you only hear in your songs or movies 

Ghost writing for everyone

Where’s my cut, the wolves always hungry 

They’ll eat me eventually if they don’t get any 

I’m not here to glorify pain, anxiety, depression or any other mental illness that you may think I have

You’re only reading the covers

This is my truth, not scared or ashamed of showing it

A book waiting to be opened by whoever would like to know or just to have a good laugh 

Ongoing til I depart to see my Father

Til then I am riding my highs and lows, with Him only

I will not fall back to any witch

Not needing or wanting any of you 

Missing my bros, if anything

I only exist in these words/works 

Nobody can see me and if you do, erase it