Wilt

Maybe it was the heat from some unknown source that brought the wave.
How can the same recipe for life
One part sun
Or
One part rain
Now seem like such an extreme.
So extreme I begin
to drag
to droop
to wilt
The rain water
saving
collecting in petals and leaves
So much so I begin to collapse under the weight.
The same life giving sunlight that blazes a path to glory now beats down so hard
I am left dried out.
I fall.
I melt.
I wilt.

It's kind of like drowning...

At least what I think drowning would feel like. It hits you all at once and its just a little overwhelming.

It all comes right at you. You're so disoriented, you don't know which way is up and out. You're so screwed up all logic has gone out the window. Where is the reasoning you wonder to yourself. And then it's one of those two things.

Either you find yourself sinking deeper. So deep that you know it's over.

Or break the surface and take the sharp breath of fresh air.

Either way, there is a moment of clarity and acceptance. You clearly see you're in too deep and this is the end. You accept you're drowning in it.

Or you realize you are almost to the top. If you just fight for one more second you will break through and live to breath, if not for one more day than for one more second.

This life, this love, this moment... it kind of feels like drowning.

Fairy Tale Fail

Once upon a time
You were the first thing on my mind
And then you turned the page
The whole story erased

Our story would never sell
We fail at the fairy tale
These pages now seem so frail
We fail at the fairy tale

Were you willing to rescue me
You're kisses could set me free
This whole thing was a mess
I'm suppose to be in distress

Our story would never sell
We fail at the fairy tale
Your kisses should make me exhale
We fail at the fairy tale

We never looked back since
Neither of us were convinced
That we would trade tears for laughter
Just to have happily ever after

Out story would never sell
We failed at the fairy tale

Hold On To (song)

I wonder if you can
Find the maturity to understand
I’m leaving it all in your hands
To finally step up and be a man
I know the walls came crashing in
You can’t cut loose from all your sins
Who really knows how a disaster begins

Just stop pretending you’re tough
Your ego, this heart we’ve had enough
You put us all through too much
Last thing you need, an emotional crutch
You chose your side fell out of line
Who will make it right this time
I don’t want that pleasure to be mine

All you want to do is be held
Well hell
Hold on and be worth holding on to

On one hand count your one and only
Add it up and realize that you’re lonely
You’ll be fine is what you told me
But shambles is all I see
It’s star white and crystal clear
That one of us can’t make it here
And is pushed and driven by fear

All you want to do is be held
Well hell
Hold on and be worth holding on to

All you want to do is be held
Well hell
Be worthy of these arm
Be grateful for this time
Believe that this is love
Because I know that you are trying
Make me feel…
Worthy of holding on to

Gas Money to Get to Neverland (Song)

Here are my memories
Sprawled out on the table
From summer to winter
My harts barely able
To process where we’ve been

This future so bright
We can hardly make it out
We’ll take all these liars
And fill them with doubt
They can’t imagine where we’ve been

Give me sunshine and rain
Send us happiness and pain
Don’t jump in this boat if you wont risk it sinking
There’s way more to life the working and drinking
We all came together
To make this thing better
So let’s go
We all need this more than you know

This journey’s so fast
It shouldn’t be this fun
I swear we’ll grow up
When this adventures done
Bring me gifts from where you’ve been

I swear I can’t do it
If I tried this alone
I wont settle down
Adventures our home
Tell them where we’ve been

Rather Spill Blood than Ink (Song)

I’m not going to write you a love song
I don't want your pen to bring me down
Every lyric you make
Tells me don't let my guard down
Love my be fleeting
But this song is still here
Reminding me of those times
We held so dear

Save all your songs about me
I don't need to live in infamy
Because every note
Will make me choke
Make us reminisce
All the times we missed

I know our song
Will take you all around the world
And tell everyone the story
Of a boy that loves a girl
It'll put us on covers
And keep you in cash
While every night your on stage
Saying KISS YOUR ASS

It make your dreams come true
While you tell me that we're through
If I hadn't broken your heart
You would have never gotten your start
I guess these tears are the byproducts
Of all our ifs and and buts

Spotlights are hot (This song is about you)(Song)

Should we deny
The spotlight is where you lie
Face down
When everyone is around

Don't fake
Your heart is theirs to take
You starve for the fame
Who else can we blame

You're geared up and ready to fight
You'll die being the star for the night
You'll move, shake, pace, scream and run
You'll make them yours before the night is done

I have to admit
We are getting to old for this shit
Quiet night can't live here
But these memories are so dear

I'll let you be my Peter Pan
And take me to Never land
But I know you're dumb struck
That Wendy grew up

For you the real world is out of sight
You'll die being the star for the night
If attention was a crime you would be a smoking gun
You'll make them yours before the night is done

How should we feel
Is any of this real
When do the games stop
Will the ball ever drop
Can we go on like this
Which words are dismissed
You're out of this world can I bring you back down
What else do you have when I'm not around
Should I send up a flare
Do you even care
to be rescued
We waited on you

You'll try to break through with all of your might
You'll die being the star for the night
One day it's real and no longer fun
You'll make then yours before the night is done...

Spoiled Seeds

They call it planting a seed
Spawning a bad breed
Letting it grow and coast
In an unwilling host
A seed that cannot grow
But few people know
That seed is misplaced
Won the battle and the race
Now in the war he surged
This seed must now be purged
From this unwilling host
Can no longer coast
A figment of no ones imagination
A failed result of another bad creation

...and Only At Night

He begs for me
But only at night
When the stars are his only guiding light
The moon the only witness
To the fleeting passion he has for me

He treats me like confession
And comes to me
Only when hes full of sin to share
When he needs to spill
All that's been building inside

When the sun rises
He vanished like fog no like smoke
Once he leaves
The view is clear

He comes for me every night
He comes only at night

You're no Prince Charming, I'm no Damsel in Distress in this Dress

Maybe
Oh baby
I'll do
Like you do
Clear the smoke
Try not to choke
On my lies and my truths
Wheres the proof
Maybe last year
Wont seem so near

So far
So good
I wish you would
Give me a chance
To explain

I live in a castle
Where dreams can come true
My fairytale
Is up to you
A prince charming
You are not
But why fight
A dream come true
When its you
Pulling me through all of this

Bend to Shake (Just don't break) (Song)

Her first foot out the door
She greeted by the sound
Of broken glass
As she walked pass

The place she once called home sweet home
The place is now unknown
And she wont go back
She cant fall back

Into these lies
A life she does despise
She watched them bend
She watched them break
She watched these lives go down the drain

Don't move
Don't shake
Don't breath
You'll break

Don't get me wrong
She know where she came from
It may be dark
It may not shine
But it was a life she could call mine
For all the hurt
For all the pain
She knew her life was not in vain

Rehab for the Drugless

I let it in my veins
I let it go through my blood
Let it feed off me like the fool that I am
I was warned
But I became addicted
Addicted to the smell and the taste
The thought that it was inside me everyday
It had taken over me
It reshaped me and life
I wanted to be all that I needed
Because it was all I wanted

Now its gone and I am left with scraps
I twitch and shake
I need another taste
I want it back in me
Pull it through the needle
Pump it in me
I'm lost without it
What have I become
An addict
Id do anything for it
How can you leave me this way
Made me seem so strong
Now I'm beaten down

This drug that people call love
Has a tight hold on me
My life
My soul
My world
How can a break the addiction
What is left in these veins
What is left in this shell
What has love left me with

There's no rehab for love
Is there?

Bring On the Rain

I compared him to rain
You saw him coming from miles away
You could track his approach
But you never knew the damage he would cause at the end
You have to sit under
And wait it out.
He could come on hard and destroy everything in his sight
Bringing with him wind
Only to become sprinkle
And become light
Something beautiful
Rainbow material
Then I realized
He is more like rain
Than I would ever know
I needed him to make things grow
Felt like I would die if he didn't come around
But he is unpredictable
You cant control him
He will come and go as he pleases
Creating his own path
I compared him to rain once
Didn't know he was so much like it.

Untitled

She woke up feeling off. It was that feeling that happens right before you get sick. When you aren’t actually sick, but the “you literally worry yourself sick” feeling.
The felling swept over her like a semi truck passing on the highway.
She waited it out for a couple more days. She impatiently waited for the cold to start or for the fever to reveal itself. But it never came, there was just the feeling of being off.
Her clothes didn’t feel right on her, her hair felt different, food tasted off. Something was wrong, just wrong.
There were no symptoms, just an awesome worry of what might happen.
After a couple of weeks she finally dragged herself to the doctor. She would be poked and prodded only to be told it was all in her head. It was all just worrying.
Yes it was her worrying that was making her stay up all night. It gave her headaches and making things not work the way they were supposed to. It was making her hair fall out and making her sick to her stomach
After all of the test, all the sticking, all the blood, all the other liquids, she waited. She waited for the doctor to come back with his clipboard in front of him almost as if it were a shield.
He looked at his paper and looked at her. Something was there, a growth.
She panicked. She led such a healthy life and did everything right. She was always careful. A growth? Why her and why now?
The good news was she came in when she did. It was still the early stages and it could be treated. And she had many treatment options.
She, knowing the risk, chose chemical therapy. She allowed the man made foreign object into her system.
After her first treatment she went home wondering what the future held. A little while later she took her second treatment.
Having to yet feel the full effects of the treatments, she felt it would be a breeze.
Later that night, her body was calm. Calmer than it had been in a long time and it scared her. All of a sudden the calm didn’t last. She suddenly grew warm. Then from warm to hot, too hot, it was as if her body was on fire and burning from the inside out. She felt like death.
Sitting in her bathroom she knew this was it. This was the end. They try to warn you, but how can you put this feeling in words?
Suddenly I was as if her body was rejecting itself. Gritting her teeth she gave the last push. It was over.
She didn’t need a baby anyway.

Nameless Star

“Fifteen minutes until show time sir”
The state manager’s assistant was warning him for the fifth time. He is getting too old.
“I’m getting too old” he said to himself.
He wonders how those big bands, those Rolling Stones, those ___, how do they do this shit year after year? He was almost 40. He should have taken better care of himself. But he never did, he never had to. They always took care of him. Better yet, she always took care of him.
He didn’t start out this way. The life dragged him down. The more his star rose, the more his morals and soul sank.
But they had left him. They left him to this life. It’s not his fault, they just went away. They left him to find their love in the bottom of shot glasses, in needles, in girl that hung out backstage. It was their entire fault.
Twenty years ago, his band was all that mattered. They were young and free, that first summer was the best. They were on top of the world. How could he know after that summer it would all be over?
His drummer, the one who always kept him in good spirits, even let him crash on his couch when his mom kicked him out, that guy abandoned him and had the nerve to go to college. He always thought they would be educated in the hard knock school of rock. But no. he went away. No he is head of a social work department
Then there was his bass player. He always helped write the songs. He kept it fun and light. He would write and produce them sure, but he didn’t have the magic to sing the. And what did he do? Multimillion dollar music producer who had the audacity to tell him he would not produce and of his music because he was high risk
Ok just because he didn’t come to a couple of sessions because he was al little too high from a party the night before. Nobody is perfect!
The lead guitarist was the biggest betrayal. He created the band, helped write the songs too, found and paid for the instruments he even taught him how to sing. He kept them away from drugs, said it would mess up his vocals, his skin and his life. What kind of lead singer would he be if all that was jacked up?
So instead he put down his guitar and turned to politics. He would rather bust drug rings and fight for the little guy than play all those years with him.
Finally there was her. She wasn’t a groupie or a roadie. Sure she manned the merch table at a few shows. But she was much more. You could count on her to be there at the last minute when no one else would. She tuned instruments, sang back up, did public relations even. She was a sister to him. He had caught the longing look in her eyes a couple times and just ignored it. He just couldn’t see her that way.
After she left it was all downhill. She met a man, got married, had a couple kids, she is even the vice president of some company.
So he bounced from girl to girl to get only little pieces of what she gave.
After they all left him and moved on, he fell in with a sleazy manager who promised to make him a house hold name. Well he did. The band went from bar to bar paying 80’s covers boozing and drugging it up from town to town. The industry called him the next Sid Vicious with half the talent.
The guys the manager picked for his band could care less about him. They didn’t bond or share. They just pose for the camera and bring him more girls and drugs. No one cared about his health. The would find him shooting up and take the needle out of his arm just long enough to stick it in themselves. They passed women along with the same feeling.
They visited him he was told. One day about 10 years ago. They had heard he was in a town where they could all meet up. They wasted two hours yelling and screaming and he was too doped up to notice or care. But really, they were wrong for leaving him like that. They should have taken him away from it all.
Wasn’t that their job he wondered?
But it was their entire fault. He never did anything wrong.
But they yelled and screamed and left and went back to their little lives. And he went back to his big dreams.
He looked in the mirror and whipped at the eyeliner one more time. It was too dark, too think and too much. Another night and another bar.
He goes on the tiny stage with a heavy heart. But the truth was his heart was a little heavier than usual, as well as his chest and his left arm.
Not here, not now he thought. How could it all catch up to him now?
He’s too old for this shit.

On The Bus

It was one of those hot days that made you just want to be inside to get away from the heat. Lucky for me, the city bus has air conditioning.
I had had a work day that was so boring that next thing on my list was a date with my DVD player. I felt lucky that I jumped off my bus quick enough to transfer to the number 21 that would get me home sooner. Once I got closer, I realized my luck came from a young woman lugging a baby stroller on to the bus. I said a silent thank you to her for being an inconvenience to everyone else and a blessing to me.
Being the last to load leaves one and the mercy of everyone else’s sitting arrangement. To avoid having to sit next to the possibly homeless or deranges gentleman talking to himself, I opted for the very rear seat.
Problem to getting to this gem of and alone seat was getting my hips and butt past the aforementioned young lady and her aisle wide stroller.
After a little shimmy and a couple of polite excuse me’s, I was in my seat. I was prepared for my 15 to 20 minuet bus ride with my dog eared book and bottle of water. My concentration was broken with the piercing scream of a child. I looked up from my gen x authored book to meet the eyes of a little girl.
She was about 3 or 4 sitting next to a boy of about 5. He was sitting next to a woman who looked to be about 25 maybe even 26. She was nodding off with a girl about 1 in her lap. And I assumed the producer of the screams.
Looking at the children I saw no resemblance. Thus my initial reaction was she was a little old to be a babysitter. But then the young boy yells “mommy” and the nodding off woman.
The 3 and 5 year olds bicker back and forth for half of my ride, screaming, yelling and showing the signs of sibling rivalry. But how could they be siblings. The young boy was dark, darker than the mother watching over him. The little girl obviously was of mixed heritage. If her honey color skin didn’t tell that, her grade of hair sure did.
I couldn’t keep my mind on the page full of words in front of me. I started my bad habit of daydreaming other peoples’ lives and situations. Here she is with these three children so close in age. She doesn’t have the time to teach them how to act in public. She had at least two different baby fathers and that was stress enough.
My thought was interrupted by the woman next to me asking the young lady if they were all hers. Her reply was “Yes, all four of them”
Four? I thought to myself. Then I saw the passenger of the rather large stroller. There was the smallest member. Maybe a few weeks old.
Four children. She was so young. She was my age. I could be her. I could not have my college education, my lousy job, and my quiet lonely nights to myself. Rather than getting annoyed by my ex’s, I could be buried under baby daddy drama. I snapped out of it quick enough to realize I was black away from my place. I was hoping she and her broad would get off before me but no such luck. But they didn’t so seconds away from my stop, I plotted my next dance with the stroller.
Raising my hand to pull the cord, I knew she couldn’t just let me through. I put away my book and gathered my things and stood up to move.
The stroller seems to move a couple of inches on its own. With sleepy eyes sparkling she politely asked “Can you make it through?”
I smiled and thought of the irony of the question.
“Yes” I said “Thank you” But Honestly I wondered the same thing about her.

The Legacy

Tonight was the night. After years of preparation and dreaming, like the three generations of women before her she was ready. She was about to become part of an age old tradition set forth by her great grandmother.

The Lilies of the Guild were an old women’s group that took their everyday activities and put them underground. They came from the top families. The women had a lot of influence over their communities thanks to their family connections, their marriages, education and power. They chose the top girls from the top families to be tapped their second year at university.

The girls had to be kept trim and clean. The girls were always active growing up and knew the ways of the world before even entering high school. Many spoke more than one language and more than likely was sent to that country to learn it. They should be lean and able to match the personality of any man. The young lady must be well taught, well spoken, and well… white.

The Lilies had always, like their name, been white since they started in 1870. Blair Milkwood’s great grandmother Rebecca was part of the intake of 1893. Her grandmother Elliot was part of the intake of 1938 and her mother Margret was part of the intake of 1983. Here is was 2009 and Blair was waiting to be tapped.

She aggressively sent letters to members since high school. She had her mother and grandmother recently write letters of recommendation. She had her great grandmothers pledge pin. An antique coveted by women who had being in the Guild longer than she had been alive. She had been prepared and trained.

She was never too loud, always wore demure colors and clothing and tried her hardest not to draw undue attention to herself. She tried blending into the back ground as much as possible.

She wanted to prove to her mother and rest of her family that she belonged.

One day in late November, Blair was woke from her day dream by a tap on the hip. She was handed something round and smooth in her palm. It was a clear stone with a lily etched into it.

She knew to go back to her dorm, dress in the traditional black knee length dress, (daring at one time, not so much now) arranges her long her into a bun, no jewelry, black pumps and wait.

After a couple of hours, there was a knock at her door. A girl a little older than her stood silently and waited for her to follow.

She knew she was headed to the interview process. They already knew her. They were waiting on her.

In a small barely lit room, five young ladies sat around a single chair. They wouldn’t ask about money, they knew she had it. They knew she was a legacy and her personal track record, so what was there left to ask about she wondered.

“You know our requirements?” One asked.

“Yes” Blair answered.

“Then why are you here?” another asked.

“If I become part of this illustrious sisterhood, I would not only follow your traditions, I would keep a tradition going in my own family”

“With all of your prior knowledge of our organization, tell us of your linage.” The one in the middle requested.

“Well my great grandmother-“ Blair started.

“No” said the middle member, “Tell us about your parents, your mother and father.”

She was hopping in some vain attempt they would over look this part.

“My mother is Margret Milkwood, pledge class of 1983” she started.

“And your father?” the group asked.

“My birth father was a man that rapped my mother while her husband was out of town.”

“And?” They asked.

“And he was Black” She released.

“That’s right, and according to our wants, needs and traditions, we will not need you.”

“But I’m legacy! I already know so much!” She stammered. “I need this. You can do whatever you want to me. Mold me how you want to! I just need this one thing!”

“But if we do this for you, just think of the floodgate that will open. I will not be the one to break tradition.

“But you are making my break tradition. How will I tell my mother, my grandmother, my aunts, my cousins?

“Sister Margret and Sister Elliot have already been notified”

“So you knew before you tapped me?”

“Yes, but we wanted to end your suffering”

“I’m suffering now! I can’t be rejected anymore. The only reason my father allowed me to live was because he couldn’t have children. I’m a reject in my own family! Now, you do this to me? NO! You’re taking me!”

“No we are not.” said an outside voice. It was her mother. She had been in the room in the shadows the whole time.

“I’ve had to deal with you for 19 years, share my life, and my home. This I will not share with you. You’re my daughter, but I refuse to allow you to be my sister.” Her mother told her.

“I will have this! I took etiquette classes and ballet. Instead of having friends I liked, I had tea with old women six times my age. I was an ice queen to the rest of the girls because they weren’t “lily like”. I only dated boys with blood bluer than mine, and all they wanted to do was feel me up! You took over my life and you’re ripping this away from me? I earned this! You will give me my pass!” Blair declared.

“You can’t have everything you want in life dear” her mother told her.

“Well mother, you did. You got the marriage, money and the child. Even when you weren’t suppose to have it all, you did. Give me this!”

“What are you willing to give?” one of the young women asked her.

“What do you want? My family and my money are already tied in.”

“You must give us you. We control where you work, your marriage, when you have children.

She pondered this thought of emotional slavery. She would never have the freedom of falling in love, the choice of rather of not to have children. She could never have the job she wanted if she was even allowed to work at all. How can she go through life without the freedom of freedom! All of her choices, rights, thoughts, all out the window for what? To be a part of a group of women that do nothing with their lives but rule over others the way they were ruled over. What kind of life is that?

On the other hand, there is not thinking and everything is handed to you. In about 30 years she could be one of these women controlling these young girls’ lives. That is including the life of her unborn daughter. She would be guaranteed a rich husband and a good job. Everyone knows it is the woman that rules the home.

“I’ve lived a shallow life thus far. I could keep it going.”