#justsnazz

I wish I could remember your name.

I might be in love with the words that you say to me. Your lips planting kisses on eyelids with the reflection of your presence. I am the branches in the wind of the sweet nothings that you whisper. Touch me. Hold me in your arms as my skin melts toward yours. I missed this. I miss your eyes and the way that they celebrate my existence. I am drowning in you. Your head on my chest. My body engulfed in a sea of sheets with yours. Making love with silence. Making love with moments now turned to memories. The sun is up and we no longer belong to each other. Set free from the bay young flight bird. Set me free from your hold until the night forever can stay.

It’s been weeks and I am still writing poetry about her brown eyes. I am every coil in her head. In her hair sat my nose. I inhaled her. She took me in. She’s gone again. I am in love with her ghost. Her scented shadow whisked away as quick as it came. Unable to outpace the squeak of her shoes. Will we meet again under the window in friendship? Will we make love once more with my lips down your back? It’s been weeks and I am still writing songs about that sound. Your voice so soft and round. Sweet lips held a smile seated vividly in memories between late night text and early morning yearnings. Next lifetime as you go again and I’m back with my poet hands..it’s been weeks.

I want you in pieces. Every morsel of you between my teeth. I split you down the middle. My hands on your soul. Your heart beats in my ear. Warm kisses on my nose. The rhythm and blues of the way your hips move so melodically. Exotic champagne sips. The lust for me flows from your fingertips. Puff me light. Smoke me slow. Blow me down. Light me up. I am in you scent. I am on your cheek. Listen. The keys stroke and your laughter is music to my ears. Decresendo. The lights go down. The moans rise near moon and stars. Fuck me while fucking you. Trace me deep with passion and fire. Your thighs hot on my ears. Fill me. Feel me. Let it flow. My hands in your hair. Your hair in my hands. Our bodies naked and free. I smile and you twist under my love. You high. Your neck. Your breast. Don't be quiet my love. Now you're empty and I the same. Burned out like candle lit flames. Fallen rose petals. I'll remember the sound of every handwritten note you play. I'll remember. Ashes.

I don’t often speak about my addiction in great detail but it’s a part of me. I don’t run from it and I don’t hide from it. It goes with me every place. It’s packed whether I’m on top of the world or lower than the shit on a shoe. It pains me how we discard people like me that have and are currently in the direct line of fire of substance abuse. I didn’t grow up yearning to use drugs but I did grow up yearning to not want to feel anymore. The agony of feeling invisible and worthless at the young age of 9 as you hung in your bedroom closet only to look over in to your teens when that bottle of pills filled your belly. Fast forward to your early 20s when the pain you buried exploded out of you in the form of excessive drinking and abusive relationships. What had you become? So empty yet full of hope. Sunken deep. Then the accident happened and the prescription pills melted what bit of heart you had left. You become a blur. You become latched into the shadows of darkness that rot away piece by piece. You’re even more invisible than before. Your family doesn’t notice you staggering in. They don’t see what you’re hiding in plain sight. So alone. So ready to go. No matter how many days pass by without using I still shudder when a memory resurfaces. I gaze and grin over the fond nights of drug binging. The tickle of the coke up my nose. The sting of the smoke in my lungs. The tart taste of alcohol rinsed xans and percs and other candy coated pills. I am an addict no matter what or how far I run from my past. I am sad when other abusers take their last breath and leave us left behind to think am I next? Will I relapse? Am I really still so close to home?

Happy Black History Month. 🖤🖤Be sure to follow @mindphukd and stay tuned into our first episode set to launch on February 13th! ✊🏽✊🏽 📷 @thecharlymagazine

Monochromatic speaks to the human experience of torture and triumph. It aims to create light in even the darkest of time & mind. With sounds like H.U.E. that can be compared to that of early Kanye West and flows of emotions that resemble that of Earl Sweatshirt, Monochromatic will vibe you full of hope, despair and bring you to recovery with stand out track X's and O's to close off this album. Don't try this at home or do.

Where the weeds grow tall and dandelions bloom in our meadows