Santa Cruz 

The Santa Cruz Series

   
    
 

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The Beauty in the Break

 

My broken heart

No longer fears the collision of your sword

For you have forced

the rise of mountains

For you have formed

the depth and curves of roads

Designing a personalized compass

Guiding me home 

 
 
 

Skeletons 

  

Too angry to dress
The platforms I avoid to address
But this rage
shakes my skeleton
Turning me to a different page
Don’t look at me!
Don’t even turn to ask me
I won’t pause for the door keys
My fists pound down the wood
My fists bleed with fury
Like the boundary got crossed
Like the lines that got lost
The flood is rising
Too high for us to cross
Too deep for us to handle
I saw myself
Alone at the bus stop
Where suburbia melts into the ghetto
And I can’t stay cuz I belong there
I ran faster than the wolves there
Some kind of homegrown shelter
I recognize the pain of others
Without words or a disguise
It hardens all over our faces
And we don’t hide it
Our skin is thick with an abrasive truth
Cracking with the melancholy of accomplishment
Adrenaline has me shook again
Left to make sense of a windstorm
Without the comfort of the wind
Stand up and dig in
The rusted smell of a broken swing 
The sting of smiles where we played
Muddy feet and wrung out blankets
Keep me warm again
Distant lies and cold hands
Got me runnin again
Towards a forgotten empowerment 
Bones of a new 

Skeleton


Beautiful Creature

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My beautiful creature

Oh the fortune of finding you

Do you know I follow you

I isolated myself in my own wilderness

When I came across the lure of your footprints

I wonder if you know you are guiding me through this

Heavy breathing and lusciousness

I track you in the solace of my fortress

I watch while you fill your cup

Flowing over

You’ve had enough

Strong yet soft

A unique soul

I feel a new connection

Guiding me home