Category: Poems

Fragments, verses, and quiet thoughts in rhythm.

  • uncertainty.

    uncertainty.

    My words as of late seem to fail me now 

    Silence became a tinged trivial sound 

    Filled the space with talk and confusion

    Memorized a tone for spotted delusion

    Introduced as vagina from dreadful guests 

    While being blamed for mens’ petty mess

    From praise and love for always being there

    To now “passed around” with envious stares 

    Complicit tendencies that leave me weary 

    The tears make it hard to see things clearly 

    Pooling on the edge not breaking the seal

    Hide in the shadows to make a deal

    Set number of pieces to leave here quietly

    In the midst of trying while grieving silently 

    Shattered the hope of renewed redirection 

    Rendition of scars enmeshed in complexion

    Settling for answers that often deceive me

    A notion for peace beyond this treaty

    Dignified and flawed with it all ablaze 

    Cradling death despite one’s better days. 

  • interrogation.

    interrogation.

    I’d feel guilty for leaving your side 

    Some say it’s because of my pride

    Made the mistake once before 

    So I’ll wait to settle the score 

    The chance to save someone’s tragedy 

    While writing my thoughts in harmony

    I wish I could forget it all 

    Or at least received the phone call 

    I told him not to hurt you with a straight face 

    He hid intentions with false display

    For me to leave when you ask so patiently 

    While someone vomited in front of me 

    I regret seeing people I met that night 

    While trying not to act from a place of spite 

    I’m sorry for not waiting for your return 

    Someday I’ll hope the memory won’t proceed to burn.

  • onward.

    onward.

    Lose things to feel the most of me 

    Close to me

    Hopefully

    That path is beaten with some honor

    A potter on a wheel of uncertainty 

    Yet certainly standing 

    Erected from engulfed flames seeking destruction 

    To birth something beyond a constellation 

    Feigning concentration 

    For the chance to hide away

    This display isn’t mean for keeping 

    And weeping is more direct

    Duress overflow to contempt

    These years meant the first of me

    The worst of me

    Thirst and burst of thee

    We fly for a chance again and again.

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