Thoughts from the right margin

I’d be perfect in her eyes...

If only I could

Put down these Playstation games

And pay attention.

True Religion

Fresh jeans and churches

On every block and yet,

We still can’t find peace. .

My Infatuation

I can’t live in this skin

This daily monotonous

Day-mare

Again

I can’t, I,

I can’t breathe

In this blend

Of false notions

This skin

Of false hope it’s this

This,

Pen is my throat

I scream when it’s potent

I can’t,I,

I can’t live

And not live

I swear I walk and not live

I can’t think and not focus

I can’t live and it’s hopeless,

I,

I need you my think pen

My words bleed

Through my ink pen.

My,

My dis-ease

Inoculations

My truth-ease

When lost in pages

Of poets who lead me on

And let me be

A peck on my temple

A touch on my knee,

Baby girl

She won’t nearly sweet as you be,

But truth be,

I,

I need you like cooked food.

I swear I bleed for you

A good dude

And take heed you do

It…

For…

Me…,

But I’m Robin Thicke without you.

I left you on pages past,

When they ask how you’ve been,

I tell ‘em if wages last

Then don’t ask

The last time I touched my pen.

Quickie dilly dallies

You give to hold me over

I fiend for you,

My day-mares are hopeless

I wait patiently to dream of you

But my dreams defer

Like syrupy sweets,

Sweet syrupy treats

When I refer to my dreams, but

I’m still lost in my days without you

I’m dazed and confused

Wearing masks of Paul Lawrence Dunbar

In dreams of Langston Hughes see,

I haven’t written in years

I’m only smitten with tears

My love left me with kids

These pages my kids

Aren’t filled with love like

They used to,

My pen,

She bled her last words.

I miss you baby girl

I swear...

I’m Robin Thicke without you.