April 2026

The cut is deeper than the woundthe scar that healed too soon,unready for new beginningsfor fearof what’s to come. Enticed to overcome,for all the painand healing to be done.Enticed to runfrom what could repeat,the cut is deeper than the wound.

I’ve been knocking on doors,slow knocking,loud knocking,trying to figure out each and every waythat I could make a paycheckso that I could make the pain-less.Underpaid and overcompensated,Underviewed and overrated. My talents seem to go awashin the whirlpoolconsumingthe river.

Leaves change colour,seeds turn to green,a million miles between usand the stars up above.

I’ve been throwing you under the bus.I’m sorry.I don’t know what else to saywhen you’re nowhere to be found.

Craving connectionthis stomach feels empty,or ready?to take on something new.Letting go of intellectualusual expectations,a reverberating repetition,doomscrolling,screen peaking,when people are right in front of me. Maybe. Maybe if I can connectI’ll stop feeling like I’m wrong,or falling apart.Do I need someone elseto put the stopper back in the tubthat I unplugged? Maybe,just maybe,it’s about my aim…

How to concretewhat feels like sandand slips through handsunready to receive? How to signalthrough passive minglethat this hearis ready to receive? Is it them or meor this space that we’re in?What can I dofor things to begin.

I’ve got the keys to the castle, the work is on demand,behold the truth of the story told,the floorboards worn to mold.There’s little left to prepare, for now,and so much left to enact,I’ve got my tools, needed or not,and a lifetime leftto craft.

What am I fighting for?What does the fight require?Could I sustain,hold my own ground,if to fightwas my desire.

I gotta get up on the mic and share the flowbecause the whole world know thatprose is power. I gotta standup on my feet to defeat the plaguebecause the truth remains thatprose is power. prose is power. prose is power. A couple minutes pass by without one liebecause the whole room know thatprose is power.…

Rainy daysI don’t seem to mind,a million momentsto bide my time.

I will fuck this dirt.who ain’t love the earth, alwayspeepin’ up their skirt

Undeniable, exasperated, the drama is exaggeratedoverrated, compensated, everything but masturbated.I keepwriting these songs, for things to come along,I staytwiddling thumbs, am I doing something wrong?Or am I too impatient, is the wait so long? Poppin’ bread out of the oven, but it’s all half baked,now the heat’s all gone, to check was my mistake,so I…

So many ways to cook a potato.I put my fork in it. I’m done.So many feelings to undress.So many takes to deliver.Ready for a mealand dealt a sliver.Famished, unhampered,to end the starvation.Loving the processwhile doubting my faith in this nation.

Frustration rings,you didn’t sing,I told it all out first.You took my time,and pled no crime,because of youand your design. I’ve kept my worthfully in tact,your jig is upI didn’t act. You hardly care,lost in despair,to look for bits of truth. It’s for the best,I carry my chest,but I’ll miss the hopeno lest.

There’s so much fakeness,I’m starting to doubt what’s real.To see someone clothed and smilingsimply feels surreal. We’ve evolved from snakeoil through photoshopto filled up lips and one stop shops,and so many say the jig is upthen they join the crowd with a custombut everyone else is doing it,and there’s no where else to find this,and…

Would you ever give us the time of dayif your camera wasn’t here?The crowd is now half emptyfrom the fakeness that you smearall over the wallsof the world wide web,all over the mirrorof your depraved creative shed.

Love moves forward in all ways,always,climbing up the mountains,smiling at the peaks,honoring the seconds,honoring the weak.

It’s curious to see how managersjerk each-other’s chains,some interactionsleaving the rest deranged. Unphased,the rest work without restlest they give themselves the chance,because what is praiseamidst the chemical romance?

My worth isn’t clear to you.Is yours to you?I’ve fought for our love to shinebut you can’t see me too. Offended by my body’s nature,as if it’s up to me,well I’m offended by how you seeand how the love you claimdeceives –the reality of our differences,the way we respect one another,the truth that has always…

Birds, birds, birds.Why do they fly?Weeks pass bywithout a need to cry.Sun veils lift the moon,the horizon ever growingtrue steps always showingfor a heart that is open.

Water drips down the sidewalkof bags drenched in decay,dismay,delay,we prayfor cleaner days.

Aftershocks,reverberations of revolutionsand resolutionsand hesitations, left unstopped. Untopped it pours,spilling onto the counter,off the counter,onto the floor. The puddle shakingdrops floppingout and in,out and in. The dust settling into mandalic patterns,disturbed with each breathof a mind that didn’t pauseto catch it’s breath.

Storm winds welcome rain,upending time once again.A moment coming for our souls to bear. Do we preparefor pains to come? Do we relish the peace time,and cherish the sun?The mistaken will fall,tripping on their own thin skin,while the clear of mindwill continueto begin.

It feels like things are coming together,just so they can fall apart.I’d like to think the pain is done,but I know the change is no reruns. What’s to come is to be told,the same old same has gotten old.No need to repeat,no need to double down,no need to regret,no need for fake frowns. If what’s…

Close to bear,smiles not stares,the density breathes,the detritus leavesclear the streetsas the spring upheavesscenes of green.The rain fogs over,yet nobody cares,dancing naked in the rainwithout a glare. The noise is silent,an ever present roar,with everything a block awayhow could one want more?The city never sleepsand the streets could eat your soul,but pay the tolls and…

Worn down floors,funny water pressure,miscellaneous issues.I definitely didn’t pick out anything fancy.But it’s not falling apart at the seams,and it puts me where I want to be.New York.

Sparks fly,I got the magic in me,people want to knowwhat I can see,to make it realto make a dealto clarifyto make a meal.