in my heart, i know you read this. more for me then for you... maybe. in my heart, im sad and confused.
what do you stand to gain?
190 days.
i'm sorry i couldn't protect you from him. im sorry i couldn't protect you from me. what makes me worse than him?
190 days.
i loved you. he loved you not.
lord forgive me for my sins, i know it's last minute.
if you think it will help, i'll believe you.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Speaking Silence...
she told me to be gentle... that i was holding her heart and should take extra special care of it. i responded using her heart as the canvas by which I would carve my name into.
i told her "your heart's (drum) beat beats just for me."
she tried her best to listen... to stay on beat.... but couldn't fit the words in her heart in her mouth to say them.
i woke up this morning to a beautiful sunrise... the same one that was taken away from me before. she said "i know you're not the same person. I can tell just by the things you're writing."
I want to tell her I was sick - trying to reinvent my shattered self. She never cared.
The funniest part about all of this is, those who don't know me seem to be more clearly clued in to what I'm talking about.
No girl, but world.
I miss how hip hop used to be.
And somedays I even miss my old superficial life where she was the one i came home to everyday
The best advice I can give you, my friend, is to ne
i told her "your heart's (drum) beat beats just for me."
she tried her best to listen... to stay on beat.... but couldn't fit the words in her heart in her mouth to say them.
i woke up this morning to a beautiful sunrise... the same one that was taken away from me before. she said "i know you're not the same person. I can tell just by the things you're writing."
I want to tell her I was sick - trying to reinvent my shattered self. She never cared.
The funniest part about all of this is, those who don't know me seem to be more clearly clued in to what I'm talking about.
No girl, but world.
I miss how hip hop used to be.
And somedays I even miss my old superficial life where she was the one i came home to everyday
The best advice I can give you, my friend, is to ne
ailing away...
sailing away...
this is a pain you can't exactly feel with your hands... my labor of love. i write to right, but what happens when you can no longer distinguish between wrong and right?
i just want to be heard. not to save anyone, or be the voice of anyone's movement. if the universe could hear me, G.d might remember that i exist.
i realized i only pray when i need something. so i stopped praying altogether.
amen.
this is a pain you can't exactly feel with your hands... my labor of love. i write to right, but what happens when you can no longer distinguish between wrong and right?
i just want to be heard. not to save anyone, or be the voice of anyone's movement. if the universe could hear me, G.d might remember that i exist.
i realized i only pray when i need something. so i stopped praying altogether.
amen.
Seeing With Closed Eyes...
Seeing With Closed Eyes...
the inside of my heart is bleeding and on fire... Love wills that these Words be brought forth... and so i write. behind the veils we both cry... and i know that even if you refused to admit it, when we ended, a large part of you died. i have died to myself and i live through you... only you want me to go to hell.... and i say being born and living there is why a chance we never faired....
should by chance you read this, know that my only real mistake was caring too much and not knowing how to express it.
i've been trapped in this invisible prison for a year now. i guess to a large extent so have you. they say they want the best - for you, they want what's best for them. because you're true independence has nothing to do with their happiness. i'm already wounded and slain. do what you must.
at days end, i miss my pen. i yearn for inspiration so i can unwrap this albatross from around my neck.
strange fruit.
blood on the tree. blood on the root. grown in shit. but from it comes one of life's great wonders. i see you sitting in an orchid field of hope and imagination.
please. hurry and listen to me. my pen's running out of ink...
AJS
the inside of my heart is bleeding and on fire... Love wills that these Words be brought forth... and so i write. behind the veils we both cry... and i know that even if you refused to admit it, when we ended, a large part of you died. i have died to myself and i live through you... only you want me to go to hell.... and i say being born and living there is why a chance we never faired....
should by chance you read this, know that my only real mistake was caring too much and not knowing how to express it.
i've been trapped in this invisible prison for a year now. i guess to a large extent so have you. they say they want the best - for you, they want what's best for them. because you're true independence has nothing to do with their happiness. i'm already wounded and slain. do what you must.
at days end, i miss my pen. i yearn for inspiration so i can unwrap this albatross from around my neck.
strange fruit.
blood on the tree. blood on the root. grown in shit. but from it comes one of life's great wonders. i see you sitting in an orchid field of hope and imagination.
please. hurry and listen to me. my pen's running out of ink...
AJS
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