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Let's talk here 🏠🎉 👉

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@officialmikeypolo LINK IN MY BRO BIO 🔥🔥🔥💸✈️✈️🚨🚨 UNSIGNED HYPE MIKEY POLO #hotmusic @richie88s #QC #mikeypolo #newartist @djwhutever @coachk44 @burnspromotions @richforever @__artnsole #newtalent @LA_Reid #marketing #ATL #upnext#music#anr#unsignedhype #mia #repost#grind @kandimanfte_ @300ent #nomanagement #spinrilla #mixtapes #djs#fader#XXL #BLOG#unsignedhype @tonyredz247 @djyoungmusic1 @uncleyank @qcmceo_p #hotartist#dmv#nyc#la #burnspromotions (at Hewlett Packard)

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Can't wait👀👀👀👀 @nukemajor #InDueTime SOON:: ________ Sincerely, NuKe. #burnspromotions (at Hewlett Packard)

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Can't wait 👀👀👀👀@rocko4m 3DAYS AWAY..... #burnspromotions (at Hewlett Packard)

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@iamtruhippie More action less talkin how I feel #Trukingz #DefinitionOfAKing shot by @scooby2official 🔥🔥🔥🔥📺📺🙌🏽🙌🏽💯💯💯💸💸💸🎥🎥🎥🍝🍝🍝🍝... #burnspromotions (at Henrico Arms)

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@richie88s They went in..💯💯check it out in @official.sambam bio right now song produced by my bro and artwork by my bro as well. ✔️ #newmusic #FLStudios #follow #listen #lean #promethazine #codeine #88Madness🔥 #chi #ny #la #atl #goodmusic #soundcloud #spinrilla #djs #recordpool #rva #burnspromotions (at Henrico Arms)

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Scales, version one

When he said to me, “You don’t deserve a boyfriend,” I started thinking about all the people who do. Incarcerated serial killers have really prolific love lives, mostly through written correspondence, sometimes culminating in visitation marriage ceremonies and commissary deposits. I thought about pimps who love with closed fists and their devoted bottom bitches sticking their cheeks out, both sets. The scumbags who get drunk on the corner and piss behind my house so I have to see them with their flies unzipped every time I take my garbage. Women who leave their kids in the car. Women with crow’s feet and grooved mouths looking to suck on more than just cigarettes at the closest bar, low breasts on the wood bar leaning into everything he says, hoping for another drink. Women who lie. Women who look for monsters under the sheets. Women who twist a pocket knife in your heart because someone put one in theirs long ago, Women who are haunted. I thought about that guy I took home who had a girlfriend and how frank he was when I said how many times have you done this and he said three, and he didn’t know why because he loved her. I thought about my mother’s lifelong collection of two dollar bills and how amused my father’s dope dealer must have been when he handed them over. I thought about me, Made a list of everything rotten in my heart, which I can do lightning fast because no one keeps a better inventory than I do and I know just where to find it. “I’m just telling it like it is,” he said. “You need to hear this shit.” And I don’t actually, because I know it already, And I’m wrong about it too.

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Luggage Compartment

I don’t need you to pick me up from the bus station. There are taxi cabs and Uber if I want to reload the app on my phone and update my card information, But really I’ll probably just walk Or call a friend who has been there. It’s only fourteen blocks. Maybe I’ll call that friend because my baggage is heavy I mean my luggage is heavy And the wheels don’t take the weight off my shoulders. They just bounce around on the brick sidewalks over the hills that tree roots grow under And the luggage tips onto three wheels or two wheels or one wheel And I always have to set it right again. Maybe I’ll just stay here At the bus station And I won’t walk or call anyone or reload Uber or update my card information. Maybe I’ll leave my baggage I mean leave my luggage At the curb and crawl into the compartment myself and maybe I’ll get home that way.

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@2turnttef Mixtape release party @thetoprva THIS FRIDAY ALL BLACK PARTY WITH @kiyananow doors open @10 http://m.audiomack.com/album/mreverything804/g-mixx-radio#.Viu5QnTFyXo.facebook #burnspromotions (at Montrose Heights, Virginia)

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Salt

They say it shouldn’t be like this That if it was meant to be, you’d be here That if you loved me, you wouldn’t have left. But what if that’s not what love is? What if love is a black vacuum? What if love folds you in on yourself? What if love is total gravity? What if love is waking up at the bottom of a well? What if love is the charred remains of a forest ravaged by wildfire? Grimy and tepid Like you know the blaze came through once but can’t really remember the heat, Can’t really place the red phantom that blackened these limbs Now molten grey and sending up thin spirals of weak smoke. What if that’s love? Maybe I’m fighting for a forest fire Maybe I just love you more than you love me Like all the others before you I loved less but said I loved more to make them feel guilty they couldn’t be my knight in codependent armor– Maybe it’s loving me that’s like waking up at the bottom of a well Deep and cold and impossible to summit. I’m working on that. I wanted to be like that wildfire Fast hot and ravenous Clearing the brush for springtime so you had a place to bloom. Your eyes are like glass Like seawater Like sea glass I want to be the wave that wears down your sharp edges But you’re the wave Rising up and crashing over me again and again. I can’t stand in your surf without my knees buckling. You force the air from my lungs like drowning– Maybe it’s loving you that’s like waking up at the bottom of a well. Maybe I don’t believe love is real unless it surfaces one small bucketful at a time And I’m always a little thirsty. Your saltwater is poison but I drink it anyway Your saltwater makes me see things that aren’t there but I drink it anyway This fire is raging and my throat is so dry and I just need a little drink of something. I don’t mind if it burns my wounded throat. I don’t mind if it draws out a little more than it puts in. I don’t mind if it’s bitter. Send it up one bucketful at a time Funnel it into my cup. Maybe love is black like the bottom of your well A long fall and risky to peer into. Maybe it’s sour Briny as seawater But sometimes, I crave a little salt.

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Luggage Compartment

I don’t need you to pick me up from the bus station. There are taxi cabs and Uber if I want to reload the app on my phone and update my card information, But really I’ll probably just walk Or call a friend who has been there. It’s only fourteen blocks. Maybe I’ll call that friend because my baggage is heavy I mean my luggage is heavy And the wheels don’t take the weight off my shoulders. They just bounce around on the brick sidewalks over the hills that tree roots grow under And the luggage tips onto three wheels or two wheels or one wheel And I always have to set it right again. Maybe I’ll just stay here At the bus station And I won’t walk or call anyone or reload Uber or update my card information. Maybe I’ll leave my baggage I mean leave my luggage At the curb and crawl into the compartment myself and maybe I’ll get home that way.

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@rocko4m Drops tomorrow!!! #O4MMonday #WhereYaAt #Rocko4m Cover track #burnspromotions (at Hewlett Packard)

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@richie88s @callmemeechii Coming soon..#beats #Producers #88Madness🔥 #la #nyc #mia #chi #atl #google #Producer #808mafia #metroboomin #trap #burnspromotions (at St. Mary's Woods)

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@richie88s Surprise banger! Check this out on my bro soundcloud now, contact him now if you want to purchase this beat! Link in my bro bio! #88Madness🔥 #808mafia #Producer #trap #la #ny #mia #chi #google #rva #newmusic #instrumental #soundcloud #burnspromotions (at St. Mary's Woods)

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🚨🚨🚨💥💥💥TONIGHT IT GOES DOWN!!! Yup we kickoff #VUU homecoming with @yte___ and @b_sounds1906 at @thetoprva 10 Walnut Alley in Shockoe Bottom! EVERYONE WITH A COLLEGE ID IS FREE BEFORE 11pm. AND FOR ALL MY GREEKS YOU ARE FREE BEFORE 11:30pm!!!! So get there early!!! We got 2 floors to party on, stripper poles, dancing cages, 2 full bars with the best drinks in the city and the best DJ in the city from iPower 92! It all goes down THIS THURSDAY at The Top #TheTopRva #GRINDTIMETMC #BooNeely #JaeCrawford #YTE #burnspromotions (at Hewlett Packard)

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THIS SUNDAY @thetoprva #burnspromotions (at Montrose Heights, Virginia)

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“Reasons Why I Can’t Have a Boyfriend” by Lydia Armstrong

I can’t sleep in someone else’s bed.

I eat onions every day.

I have OCD and I can’t stand when people touch things.

Sometimes I can’t stand when people touch me.

I don’t own an umbrella because I always abandon the things that protect me.

I tell my secrets onstage.

Sometimes I tell other people’s secrets in an effort to feel more like myself.

I have OCD and I can’t stand when people move stuff.

Sometimes I can’t stand when people move me.

I didn’t know my grandfather but I live with his skeletons in my closet.

I’m afraid of growing soft like my mother in the arms of a lying man—her heart is a rotted peach.

I’m afraid of growing spikes from my wounds like my father—his heart is a pinecone.

My parents love too much.

They love so much they had to put 75 miles between them and live in separate houses.

Men say I’m too serious except when I’m drunk in a bar and laughing and wearing a dress he likes.

Sometimes when that happens I feel cold like predator and I wonder would he like serious better if he knew he was prey.

My grandfather was a predator and I inherited his affinity for perfectly folded towels, his disease of exact.

Reasons why I can’t have a boyfriend: My bloodline is poison and the drama is contagious. I’m afraid of contaminating someone healthy.

I’m afraid of meeting someone who has everything I want and realizing he’s the version of myself I’ll never be.

I only date other damaged people with the hope they won’t know any better.

Sometimes I think being with someone would calm my mind but I don’t want to treat a man like Prozac.

It’s taken so long to be able to sit peaceful in a room by myself I don’t want to invite anyone else in.

I’m an armadillo, sheathed in leathery armor, Alone in the desert doding trucks on their way to somewhere Better.

————————————–

Lydia Armstrong called us from Richmond, VA. More about Lydia.

voicemailpoems.org // 1-910-703-POEM

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