Poetry

late nights

It seems like lately I've spent one too many late-nights rubbing my heart against dreams of who I can never be.
Counting each breath in monotone while attempting to show others that love is possible.
That equality was built as a fiction but even inanimate parts can create something real.
That sometimes, if you hold your breath long enough,
you can still hear the feet of children tapping along the paths we now walk-
filling it with their innocence-
clearing the fallen limbs so that we don't have to step lightly.
I tell myself this- is beauty,

Who I wish I was

In grade school-
He use to pass poetry like love notes
Hoping the teacher would catch him and make him read it to the class-
Perform- like his role models and encrypt messages to his teacher in the stanzas like:
You-- try to embarrass me,
by forcing me to publicly profess my love for her- or him
Teaching me that love at such young ages is impossible and forbidden but really-
I love you all
I’ve loved you since you first dropped beats in my life like wu-tang clan
and continue to astonish me with your hearts

3

its always at 3am when she comes back to me
when these hands are far from any paper
and have no chance to write mercy
have no chance to spill these feelings
I've so carefully bottled up and sealed

Man

When my 8 year old cousin wanted me to join him in watching a popular modern-day childs film
I- wasn't expecting to get a lesson in how to be a man
Granted, disney has learned to avoid some of the feminist wrath with things like “strong female characters”
but they still have a long way to go
See-
Hidden among the elegant dances and hopeful storyline-
among the black faces of the villains and the white faces of the heroes
Among the sexualized dreams of innocent children
I saw the character my parents wanted me to be-

Doll 1

1. her
She was once someone who wanted to be ignored, hid beauty and innocence behind thin strips of cloth-
An often questioned act of religion that oppresses women around the world yet keeps them connected to their souls.
would she shy from these lust filled eyes or embrace them with delicate fingers and dangerous emotions?
Does she really believe she doesn't deserve to be appreciated and that this crush will only crush fragile hearts?

Thesis response

To Rachel-
The trailblazer
The girl who has taught me the most about this world and myself yet
Brags about the things I do.
I’m nothing without you.

As children, dad once convinced us to stop fighting by-
pointing out that one day we would be millions of miles away and-
regret every hurt word, broken heart and scar we gave eachother.
Well, he was almost right.
Lately I’ve been tracing the scars back to where we came from,
retelling the stories of our past and
Realizing how you inspired me

Aurora

I’ve seen faces like hers thousands of times before
and every time my heart drops
shatters
I loose my breath yet still manage to find the strength to say
oh my god
she is gorgeous.
I know I shouldnt be concentrating on how she looks but its hard not to.
I see fragments of the past embedded in her chakra and cant help but be polarized
do you realize how much I could love you?

Depression

I want to let you all in on a secret
Something that few people know about me- that few people care to ask
I have a crippling condition.
It tends to crawl through my brain and obscure everything I think I know and
I have learned to explain it through a simple crippled thought you see-
“I don’t see myself as some emo goth punk rock cutter that spends life blaming society for his pain... I see myself as nothing.”

Feminist

I don't know if this will offend the quote men in this audience
but its meant to
and if it does i hope we never speak again
i spent my late night snack for the hundreth time with eyes glued on mtv
watching plastered faces dance in the background of violent music videos
and finally lost it when i saw everyone's favorite commercial about breast enhancement
how you can achieve those perfect breasts by squeezing a bar back and forth
back and forth

2010

see.. as a kid i could never follow instructions
even back in 1st grade-years of ignorant bliss
teacher use to give us color by numbers
red orange yellow green blue indigo violet
said color roses red and the sky blue
and so we set out
saw friends gently trace the outlines and-
fill the white space inbetween with solid colors
while i- could only watch- as these hands left
stray marks that jumped the pre defined borders
as though i was attempting to escape from myself
unintentionally created northern lights and

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