A Drunk Toast To The Best Kinds Of Plot Twists.

I’ve read that the best kind of love is one in which the soul is awakened. I am not in love, and I am unsure if it’s indeed my soul, but something endlessly divine has been awakened inside of me. It started when the best kind of friend (One in which you have to build a solid foundation of banter in order to avoid a considerable amount of maudlin conversations detailing how truly perfect they are in your eyes.) Confessed her feelings for me. Instantly I was 7 years old again, up way past my bedtime, and watching my first Sunrise. God has colored the entire sky perfectly, and I still couldn’t color inside the lines of a singular square I thought. I had never seen or appreciated such beauty before. I knew that I never wanted to miss another, and I vowed that I wouldn’t. I promised forever to something I didn’t know existed, wanted, and possibly even needed moments earlier.


You see, What I’m trying to say is that… this friend was everything Magical in what was my first Sunrise.

I became entranced with ideas, and possibilities that I didn’t know existed moments earlier. I saw forever in a world I had previously thought to be fleeting. I saw the everlasting beauty in everything that was her. I was effortlessly lost in the wave of newfound passion. I put a grim emphasis on the term wave because waves come and go in an ocean of forevers and foundations.

With that said, My 7 year old self,  was peacefully asleep, on time, and couldn’t even manage to capture the sunrise the very next morning.

As for my best kind of friend, maudlin conversations and thoughts of perfection possibilities quickly faded back to banter.

So here I stand with a shot filled with an ocean of Hennessy toasting to wishes of being her ocean of forevers.


Fuck Now & Laters Candy

I’m questioning the exact moment that later becomes never. I’m wondering if there is even a “becomes”, or is later always some form of never. I’m struggling a balancing act between a line I feel should be thicker of determination and procrastination. “Why is it so thin in my life these days?” I tend to ask God in some form most 2014 nights. I’m able to fall asleep at night on the pure fact pillow that my self-admitted, miniscule, productivity is still  the most productivity that I see from those who surround me. The question “Who am I really surrounding myself with?” wakes me up midway through said sleep, and I continue my journey on a road that leads only to success, but I’m driving below the speed limit. I sometimes get out, and walk, do drugs, have meaningless pop culture talk, and watch movies with the hitchhikers and bystanders. I sometimes let the wrong people in the car with me. I never run out of gas, but I sometimes run out of energy to push down on the pedal. I’m scared that the promising fact that I’m on a road that only leads to bliss, has falsely comforted me into constantly saying “I’ll get there later.” I don’t want that later to become never. Behind all the metaphors what I am saying is that, I want to birth words that grow up to be sentences that the world needs, and I must fuck my word documents now, or never. 

Some Text Should Never Send

Some text should never send.

Love is but only a story, and some stories shouldn’t end.

But, when they do won’t you wonder when it all went bad?

Won’t you reread all those words, and wonder when it all went mad?

Some text shouldn’t send.

Love is but only a story, and some stories should never begin.

But, when they do, won’t you view the world in a new light?

Won’t the bliss consume you with each word that you type?

But Those texts always send

And those stories always begin

And those stories always end

The only hope is in the fact that all things can be written again.



An Open Love Letter

Dear S.P.N.

I’ve found in you & with you something that I had once thought to be lost into the deepest depths of forever. You have effortlessly, and unknowingly given me something that I would lie to myself and others & proclaim that i’ve already had. What I am trying to say in this open letter S.P.N. Is that I’ve managed to find myself… along the hours of getting lost in your conversation and kisses. I’ve written to you before, but not like this. I havent given a piece the time you without a doubt deserve. Being completely honest, I admit  that I havent given any piece the time of day let alone the time it deserves as of late. You see, your love has managed to fill a void that writing once filled for me, but thankfully it has also over time inspired me to do the impossible and attempt to put the butterflies in my stomach, the romantic melody in my head, and love in my heart on paper. God knows we argue more than we should, especially when I put into perspective that though i’ve said it in other relationships.. I havent felt love like this in a long time. With that said my question to you & I is why argue when we know the end result will always be you in my arms? and If my rhetorical question doesn’t make it clear sweetheart, allow me to blatantly tell you That I am not going anywhere.  If my love letter, and my actions are still the wee bit hazy allow me to blatantly tell you That I find you to be an amazing friend, an even better girlfriend, and a beautiful person inside & out. You have showed me how to be crazy again, some bad crazy, some good crazy. Either way I thank you for showing me Love, True true Love.. once again.




Momentary Infinity

Momentary Infinity

It seems like forever we were together

You’ll never know what you mean to me.

Broken hearts paint my scenery

Cupid aimed at me with his whole artillery.

But it’s cool i won’t take it personally

Because there was a time when i felt as if you were put solely on this earth for me.

Until love burned me third degree

But you taught me so much i graduated early with my love degree.

Now i sit here and write beautiful words of poetry

But you’ll never notice me

And i’ll always love you

But you will never know it

Or maybe you will and feel the same

But you’ll never show it.



True Story Vol. 2 (A Short Poem)

It’s all fun and games until someone falls in love ain’t it.

If you don’t get the picture allow me to paint it.

Once said to be High school Sweethearts turned strangers Not quite how you planned it

Two Years pass  and you are considered crazy if you still cry, and still frantic.

So you hold it in…

Until one day you meet someone new

And they’re everything you need but nothing you want

But you cant say that, so instead you put on a front.

You roll up your emotions everyday in the form of a blunt

And try to smoke the pain away..

But that dont work so you quit

You start to pen letters to the sky

You start asking god why

And you simply pray…

That he takes the pain away..