I Don’t Write For You


I don’t write
because I can
or to have you
in the palm of hand
I don’t write
because I do,
I write because I have to.
Hunger turned inside out
causing me to quake
scribbling like a junkie
prepping his next bake
The high to write
grips my soul
as I begin
to shake
Held fast by
a passion I
never want to escape
No I cannot put it down
until I have rendered her
her due
as I slowly whisper
to myself,


In The Cut


Traveling through this space of mind I often like to sit and rhyme as I contemplate my idiosyncratic qualifications.

Seems life has been more down than up, as I struggle to not give a fuck; and remain relevant with respects my dreams.

Along the way, friends have proved to be far and few in between; yeah you know what I mean.

But my girl she’s been there when no one else was. She’s my hero, she’s my buff, always there; laying in the cut, keeping me warm and well fed.

FOR Lisa

My only friend