The Essence Of Who I Am

I write poetry like coughing up blood.

It never comes when i am ready for it.

Only when you have 3 minutes waiting in line at a drive through.

Maybe it likes to be rushed.

Hoping the rawness of my heart won’t have time to be rationalized by my head.

M.a.a

And in that moment
i was glad i was not the controller of time…
Because i knew
that selfishly i would have played that moment
over and over again
Never letting the world run out of time.

M.A.A

Is there another side of the glass
Or is my reflection really my own

Am I supposed to be happy
Or was I born to feel alone

The badlands have caught me
Or maybe I have just found my home

M.A.A

Like the stars we live in darkness, yet have our own fire to light the darkness up.

I think so many things are misunderstood in this world. The blaming before the truth. The power before the trust and the conviction before the pain. It’s all wrong, everything is. And its sad i seem to be the only one who notices.

Maybe it’s just because I speak with the stars. Or maybe it’s because I listen back.

They all live in the night. Darkness doesn’t have to be bad. The world has turned all good into evil. The stars never did a thing wrong, yet they die.

Just because we live in darkness doesn’t mean we are.

M.A.A

–Excerpt from Color On Me–

I wish I lived in a movie
Where I knew the plot would end
I would be able to choose my story
And no one would no who I really am

I wish I could find my prince charming
and live happily ever after
where I hold a script telling me what to say
always knowing what to expect in the next chapter

I would not be scared of anything
all my fears would be behind makeup
But Instead I live in the real world
And thinking about it now I could only
cry
when
they
called
cut ….

M.A.A

M.a.a