The Sweet Life
A Real Car

A Real Car

Hustling Heart

I love to hustle but I never had to hustle to love. I’ve never felt like this, even when I’m down I’m always winning. Because I always win I’m scared to lose you. I want nothing but you in my arms. I’d love to slow it down. Maybe we could take a walk, maybe dance by the beach. Maybe we could watch the sunrise, maybe we could sit on the hill at night and count the stars. I just want to kiss you, hug you, love you, and tell you it’s alright all night. Have you ever been in love? I love to hustle and now I’m hustling for your love. I’ll give you my love if you give me yours. I just want to kiss you, hug you, love you all night with the hustlers heart that I have.

BB

Low Points of a Sweet Life

A person who is heartless fears someone else’s heart. If you are heartless it’s probably because you had your heart broken or you never let anyone get close because of fear. Well, I suffer from both symptoms. Here is what I realize no matter how thick your skin is or how much you close your self off there’s a heart down there. I have one fear, that I will never over come. The fear that the person next to me will be the one who wants to leave. When fear hits and sadness follows, one can once again feel their heart the one they claim not to have. I felt something last night I felt my heart I felt it when the tear ran down my face, I felt it when she looked at my hand pleading for hers and then denied me. I felt my heart when I wanted to be a million miles away, I felt it when my friends put a much needed smile on my face. I feel it now as my finger tip trot over the key board. I feel the heart I claim I don’t have. All that I can say now is thank you and you know who you are if you are reading this. You may not be around me, you may not see me, you may not care anymore but thank you.

B.B

The Beach House

The Beach House

Good day, I’m ok. Bad day, I’m ok.
What’s the difference?
The Glass

The glass in front of me is half empty; I can’t even muster up the enthusiasm to ask the bartender for more. Folks around me are clamoring just going on about their day, work, kids and other non-sense. The clamor and commotion turns into a whisper when I hear the break on the pool table. This very moment the door swings open, she walks in. This is the girl who sits in the back of every guys mind toying with their emotions late at night. Her heels click just drowning out everything else. She takes her seat at the bar; with and with-out a moment notice the bartender places a drink in front of her. Her eyes catch mine, we are locked in a glance and she smiles the most radiating smile you could ever dream of. One of the pool players taped my shoulder I’m up it’s my turn to play. No more than a few moments go by and she is walking up to me. My forgotten drink in her with a napkin under the glass with some sort of writing. She looked at me as if into me, her eyes radiant I can’t even begin to describe what came over me. Her lips part from one another and in the sweetest sound emits from her. She says good luck with your game I’ll see you in the funny papers.” I put my drink down and I notice her name and number on the napkin. My glass is now half full.

Perfection

Perfection