He wants me to open up, tell him whats on my mind What’s heavy on my heart Only, I don’t know where I start. Missing my family, consistantly Taking loss after lesson. Trying to heal from childhood trauma Greiving myslef. Mental illness, addiction the yearning For anyone to really listen. Meanwhile, Betrayal almost daily We can talk about it all but, We wont get anywhere See, You’d rather interrogate me Behind your guilty conscience I can’t pretend anymore. It’s a sad day when I cant see A reason to talk to you Gee. I don’t want to live in defense, make it make sense. Conversations tense, ive got to be dense. To wish for change, when we Don’t activly pursue Happy We’re stuck in a rut, this pain in my gut Im seriously go nuts. But I love you Maybe, Silence and poetry Can help me

🎤 “Counted Out” They counted me out ‘fore I counted myself in Judged the book off the scars on my skin Said I’d lose before I learned how to win Now I walk in the room, feel the shift in the wind They was sleepin’ on a chosen one, now they wide awake Pressure built diamonds, I’m everything they couldn’t break Heart full of hunger, all I knew was elevate Now the same ones doubtin’ got that fear they can’t escape Life ain’t come sweet, I ain’t dine with a silver spoon Had to fight in the dark, learn to grow in a different room They labeled me a problem, but the problem wasn’t me It was people gettin’ paid who ain’t see what I could be Tried to cage my mind, said I move too different But I see what they don’t, I don’t need they vision ADHD, they say it like it’s somethin’ wrong Nah, I just see the world in a place where I belong I don’t read it out a book, I gotta touch it, feel it Every lesson that I learned, I went and lived it, breathed it I don’t fit they system, never asked to be accepted I was built for more, I ain’t wired to be corrected Now I’m everything they said I’d never turn into All the pain I carried turned into a better view Every scar speak truth, every loss was a lesson Now I’m standin’ on it all, ain’t no second guessin’ They counted me out… now I’m who they talk about Voice from the struggle, yeah I made it out the drought Chosen from the bottom, had to rise without a doubt Now I’m lookin’ at the sky screamin’ “this is what I’m ‘bout” 🔥 If you wanna push it even further: I can: �⁠Turn this into a full song structure (hook / verse 2 / bridge) �⁠Match it to a specific beat style Or �⁠make it hit even darker, more emotional, or more aggressive Just say the direction 🎯

There is no evidence, they said, of a stroke— not on CT, not on MRI. But I have eyes. All I know is his movements are slower now— more intentional, like the turning of large pages in a heavy book. When he speaks, concentration his dearest friend. His words— methodical, measured. Like thick honey dripping from the comb. And I— I find myself watching his lips like a silent prayer, as he strives to shape a word, his mouth a frantic, holy O— pulling a heavy anchor from the sea. And still— I find them sexy. Maybe… even more than before. Because now each word costs him something, and that— that makes them worth everything.

Forever soul in a never body, stand freezing cold in a hotel lobby. Prob’ly warm hands before security, suggest I hit the streets of scare city. On Fear Avenue, packed lanes of red lights. Cars howl in mad fright, haze blurs the sun's light. Hand out? Slapped! side swipe. hand up? swipe, decline. My boots been strapped tight, why I still survive. (In) Zero-sum games, been the cat with nine lives. Been shuffled like cards, been shaken like dice. Played by rule book between working 9-5s Been played by rule books that I did not write. I will write these signs. I'll stand in these lines. Peace sign, be kind as your eyes avert mine. As the shine shadows, will your windows roll? With your hands of time can you spare a soul?

Dear Ghost in the Room You don’t announce yourself. You never did. You live in the corners in the pause before I sit down, in the chair I don’t choose, in the way my body still orients around something that isn’t there anymore. You aren’t memory exactly. You’re residue. The afterimage of what once had power over me. The echo that stays even after the sound is gone. I used to think you meant something was wrong that your presence was a sign I hadn’t healed enough, hadn’t prayed hard enough, hadn’t let go correctly. But I’m learning something quieter. You linger because you mattered. Because something real passed through here and left a shape. That doesn’t mean you still get to rule the room. There was a time when you decided everything where I stood, what I said, how small I made myself to keep the peace. Back then, I mistook endurance for obedience. Silence for wisdom. Disappearing for faith. You benefited from that confusion. But I’m not gone anymore. I sit where I want now. I speak at my own pace. I leave lights on. I open windows. And when you show up, I don’t flinch. I don’t argue either. I acknowledge you then return my attention to the weight of my body in the chair, to breath moving in and out, to the fact that I am still here. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.” (Psalm 23:4) It doesn’t say the shadow disappears. Only that it no longer gets the final word. So yes you still linger. But so do I. And this room is learning the difference.