5.10.19

Maybe kid, if you weren’t such an asshole to everyone
You’d be less miserable and less of a misery to be around
But this path will lead to pregnancy at sixteen
Or a short, squandered life of violence and addiction

Who I am fluctuates on what has yet to happen.  None of us are who we will be in the end

One day I’ll be able to explain that
it’s not a teacher shortage you see
but awful parents and feckless
administrators afraid to do what’s
right because it’s hard and
we leave burned and scarred
hopeless and looking for
any kind of meaning again

There’s science to you, we just don’t understand it yet.

You keep disappearing like it’s no big thing
I walk a shaking tightrope over
Sharp rocks upon which I’ll surely shatter

5.8.19

Talk of nightmares
Avoid the quiet
Or is it worse
Believing in better

You have many scars coming.  Don’t be in such a hurry to earn them all at once.

Why do I always think that
We’re made of glass
On the brink of shattered

Can’t take the borough out of the homeboy.

Even though we’re both amazing
as jumping to conclusions
is our favorite thing
lets try to wait
and see
how
bad
it can be
instead of always
imagining the worst
just because we can

5.7.19

Ten days until
a new countdown
of degrees
of rings
of jobs
of houses
of anniversaries

Reading drunk thoughts is hella easy

I’ll try to sleep tonight
Without you it’s hard
To remember to close
My eyes and try

“Your decision.  Are you better than your master would have been to you?” 

There’s wild things in the seas
As alien as you and me
The stars are the same
Full of dreams far away

We all change.  Time time sees to that

5.6.19

Spend literal hours
talking about assessments,
Multi-syllabic bullshit artists
justify careers on teenagers
trying to survive, smogged with
Impossible rigor,' only caring
About questions, comparisons,
Statistics on a page
Not eyes, lives, loss, and
’have you eaten today'
Fret over school improvement,
performance pay Ignore broken homes
kids that aren't okay
Every day ends a little more broken
Inside Dreams of inspiring young souls
Have dried with all the tap-dances
we cried over generations gone awry

Honor is measured in decorum to those that want you dead.  Or something like that…

I was waiting
for the day
you would say
no more damsel
the stars are yours.

Justice should be blind… but is often bought.