April 30 in 30 #7: To the Man who Shares my Dreams

Let’s take a trip to Harlem
On the backs of angels,
Defer the dreams of those that never believed.

We share the dreams
Of a sleepless generation
Caused by waking hours
Of dreamless conversations
That we’ve grown to despise.

Loners in a room
Of those unable to be alone.
We’ve mastered the art
And the ability to dream.

I pray that you don’t sleep
That reality takes the place of your dreams
That you’re blinded by the stars that shine through your eyes

I wish for lonely nights
That cause you to look elsewhere for companionship
For moments of doubt
That lend time to pray for guidance.

I pray that you get homesick
That you become dissatisfied
With your current living conditions.
That you look forward to your eviction.

They’ve placed a notice on your dreams
For the lack of deposits
And allowed me to move in
I had been waiting to see what it’s like
to experience the dreams of someone else.

Then I met you,
The dream chaser
Placed a down payment on your heart
Asked for insurance
To fully cover
The damages that you incurred from past relationships
Turned nightmares
Into dreams worth staying asleep for.

 

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April 30 in 30 #6: Grafitti

We share a gift.
They accept mine
more freely.
You provide words for all to see.
I hide behind
Metaphors, simile,
An art that many would not understand
yet judge
like the church before judgment day.
Don’t let them see you sweat.
Our gifts came from the same God
that they serve.
Let your words be seen,
by a generation
That has stopped listening
to some of mine.
I’ve given my all to the art.
You’ve shared your heart
on a wall
In hopes of someone witnessing your past
as they pass
the nearest bridge
that I’ve often
been scared to cross.
Rejection gave me reason
to no longer submit
to a cause that not many supported.
But you never waited
on the opportunity.
You stole it
in hopes of sharing
what they refused to.
I guess we both have that dream,
To be heard, To be seen,
To share, To write
Graffiti

30 in 30 #5: Awkward Silence

I fell for you the way a kid trips over his new shoes on his first day of school.
I’ve tried many times to protect myself
from bruises that seemed to develop behind my elbow pads.
You made me realize that I’m not as cool as i thought.
I’m awkward in every sense of the word.
But i guess that means we’ll blend together perfectly
Awkward silence that noone else seems to understand yet we’re comfortable here.
This is home to us.
In a room full of people yet the only ones we see are us.
We share the need to be alone
so much that we’ve mastered the art of doing it
together we’re alone.
When we’re alone, we’re together
Speaking without really speaking at all.
Telepathy if you will.
Our silence speaks volumes
to those around us
causing them to wonder
about what goes on inside our minds.
We’ve shared this for far too long.
We’ve been here even longer.

April 30 in 30 #4: Love’s Travel

No one ever told me that love would be a journey.
That I would be backpacking through the windows of your past
boarded to hide the things you’re ashamed of.
Skating by your insecurities in order to ease the pain.
Knee deep in the only ocean that separates you from your truth.
That everyone else seems to have been floating by
With the ease of knowing you would be their lifeguard
And save them
From death by drowning.
Yet all along, you were drowning in the thought
Of falling in love.
Yet no one caught you.

For some reason this boat ride seems longer than it should
And there are no iceburgs in this ocean.
No excuse for the women to leave you stranded
Wishing someone would share their unconventional bed with you.
There’s no reason for them to leave you out to freeze
To death in the ocean of your tears.
I’m just here to provide you with the wind that you need to dry them.

No one ever told me that love would be a journey.
But as long as you’re the copilot,
I don’t mind sharing that plane.

April 30 in 30: #3 Untitled (for now)

I’ve wondered how you handle your tears.
If you let them fall like rain
Or wipe them away like secrets that no one else has the right to see.

I can only imagine how you felt when your nephew was born,
Someone you can share your gifts with,
Your protégé.

I’ve pictured you with a million things to say
So much that a single feature
Wouldn’t do you justice

I spent a year imagining what I would say when I met you.
But we all know
That most plans don’t always go as planned.

I approached you
And my brain turned to mush.
The writer in me was suddenly silenced.

Choked up,
Like a kid who witnessed something they had no business.
I didn’t say much

I just smiled
In hopes that you
Could see past my nervous ticks

I met you and you were everything
That I ever thought you would be
And then some.

I gave you all that I had to offer
Materialistically
In a $3 gift bag.

A bag that wasn’t quite big enough
To hold my dreams
Of what you would mean to me.

I live vicariously through you,
No way I could be this cool
On my own.

I use to be known
As a shy kid,
Not from the Chi.

You’ve given yourself
To the art
of writing

You breathe
As though you have a thousand memories
Under your belt

Memories that I would love
To introduce
My dreams to.

April 30 in 30 #2: Goodbye

She cried that night
for the first time in years.
She wouldn’t wish this on her worst enemy
saying goodbye to the only man she ever loved

For the first time in years,
she was able to open up to him
saying goodbye to the only man she ever loved
in the same church that they exchanged vows

She was able to open up to him
more than anyone else she knew.
In the same church that they exchanged vows,
she was forced to say goodbye

More than anyone else she knew
he lived his life on the run.
She was forced to say goodbye
as she spent most of her nights alone

He lived his life on the run
escaping what he thought held him back
as she spent most of her nights alone
for the last time

Escaping what he thought held him back
he left her
for the last time
forcing her to fend for herself

April 30 in 30 #1: Solitary Heart

He is alone
but not in the way that you would think.
He’s surrounded by one
the only one who seems to see him.
She sees him
through eyes jaded by memories
of ex men
who never really saw her.
She was alone
but not in the way that you would think.
She is surrounded by him
just enough to know that he’s there.
He resists, not giving himself over to her.
She’s a prison on display.
He’s on trial
waiting for his arraignment.
Solitary confinement seems like a good idea.
The loneliness brings a comfort
that he’s grown accustomed to.
All she wants to do is hold him,
the way that a cell has failed to.
He’s escaped
The love that was so freely given to him
to fight for the one’s who can’t support him.
She loves him
for his ability to escape the things that hold him back.
He loves her
for her ability to hold him down.
Yet he fights the feeling.
A love that many don’t understand
yet can’t help but notice.