Let go and let flow.

I'm smart. Keep to myself a lot; pretty shy. But I'm focused. I'm just a college kid trying to kick push my way into Dr. land. I'm happy. I don't have everything I'd like right now. But I'm happy:)

God began doing a good work in you, and I am sure he will continue it until it is finished when Jesus Christ comes again.

—Philippians 1:6.

Oh My Goodness.

This Organic Chemistry lab looks like foreign language to me. I’m praying that I can remember somewhat of something that is going on in the lab. I need to get my mind together because I haven’t touched OChem in more than a year and I do NOT remember hahahah O_o.

Every Day.

I am blown away by Christopher. The marriage of our minds. Of the gifts that God has given us…it just makes me smile. You know, I can just write with him. In front of him. For him. Anything that I feel. A lot of the times, we are in synch. Sometimes we aren’t. But that is okay. Because the differences blend to create something on an entirely different level. Something better than. This is my best friend. My fiancee. My heart in human form. I’m usually not so open on this blog with my personal life, so forgive me for this mind spill, as I’d like to call it laughs. But I am happy. God gave me a sweet soul that matches mines in every way. And man…idk. Just being able to write with him and to watch us turn a small idea into something real it…for me, and the love I have for writing poetry and music…the feeling to be able to do that is amazing. I can truly say that God has blessed me with this man. *smiles sweetly and continues on with my day*.

Writing Blocks.

In sessions.

In modes.

In a different space.

High.

I feel high.

Not coherent.

But aware.

So aware.

To everything else.

My senses.

They all hit one hundred.

All at the same time.

But of course.

To the onlookers

My writing blocks them out.

Not Easily Aroused.

Steel walls.

That’s what your words hit.

The smooth words

That leave your mouth.

They never reach me

As soon as you’d like them to.

Ladders.

Succession.

Progression.

Yes.

My body.

Is moving.

But no.

My mind.

Not my mind.

My mind.

Is not in concert.

It’s in concert.

With

Depression.

Recession.

chrisshaw:

Show me
That you love me
Overwhelm me
With sincerity
Have me lay
Prostrate
Before your
Glory…
Lay it so I
Can play in it…cus I
Believe in the mane
That has elevated
My mind…
Now be still.
Allow me to show
You the slightest
Of movements
Mean the most in
This love.
In this space.
Hold me as if
I was the last one
On the shelf
December 24th.
I don’t yearn
For what you cannot give
I rejoice in the
Realization…
That the moon
And the sun
Are one in the same.

Untitled.

Sweet

Concubine.

Her eyes blend in every night.

You’re all she needs.

She’s all you see.

Powered

By the moon

She becomes lost in you.

You’re all she believes.

That’s all you need.

And in the morning

When it’s said and done

Your pride has conquered her

And your lies have won.

She goes back home

Mistress unknown.

Your hands are bare

Because she stained your finger

The smell of her

Oh, it trailed and lingered.

You all the way home

And you wonder why you’re alone.