Poetry

Female tendencies

lately my brain has been filled with ideas of equality
like-
if we could somehow change every aspect of humanity maybe we could finally be on level ground
like-
if we could somehow show the people on top that they are blocking the light meant for the people on the bottom maybe they would donate their dirt to fill the holes left by the explosions of modern thought
~
I love to paint my nails
I view my body as a blank canvas and i’m never really complete untill i’m covered

all the girls ive ever liked have been different
either- eyes painted black like night or-
belts that held chains or- lips pierced with silver rings
yeah, they were “unique”
had personalities that matched their screen names like
xX punk goth rock hard-core xx screw the world xx dont judge me x
and you know
i never did judge them
because i knew that with a little digging i could find some reason to
love without question so that in return they might-
drop their cynical outlook that all men are pigs

Racist

Im afraid of the unknown
afraid that the boogieman might be lurking behind my closet door waiting for his chance to strike
afraid when i turn off the lights and stare blindly into the eyes of unknown sounds
im afraid when i look into the hearts of every person in the train
imagine their motives are as dark as their skin and if i turn my back for one second i may never leave the train alive
as though every black person packs an ak47 and dreams of using it on a weak white kid from the north side

Sis

i know she isnt going to die
but i love her
and when someone you love is sick with
something doctors barely understand
you cant help but be scared
what if she leaves me
what if she never knows what she meant to me
life isnt fair
but you always tried to make it fair for me
your so good to me
all your friends seem to know me as some computer genius
while mine dont even know your name
but they will now
and i promise they will never forget it
and in 20 years when your still by my side

rock the beat

he walks, one hand behind back
one hand hidden
rocks the beats in his head with the other and admires how the world can be so beautiful without trying
admires how amazing people are
and watches from behind his low brim
doesnt want them to know he secretly desires to be just like them because he is an individual
wears clothes that his mom picked out from him and a corduroy hat that never seems to match anything.
but at least hes different
at least he can believe the ideas in his head are something they would admire

Jenmi sets the tempo of my life
makes my heart skip beats like the old vinal soundtracks
makes every step i take seem special
because i know i take it for her
she is the reason i wake up
the reason my dreams are filled with wedding bells
and cant sleep without a teddy
because it holds the spot she saved when she touched her lips to mine
she makes me scream love
this ive told her a million times
but i want the world to know
want this love to be the model
so future generations

Counting

this poet holds his breath
as though about to dive deeper than his boyant body will allow
and counts
a second for every time he new he couldnt
but did anyway
counting up past the record he set in 7th grade
back when mommy promised tommorow would be better
or next year it would be different
empty promises mothers are suppose to make
even though they only breed false hope
his eyes gently close
every second beating on his mind like his bad habits
and he wonders if its what his girlfriend saw

he shot from point blank range

you have no idea what distance means untill the tips of your fingers are seperated by a world
when her tears cant be dried with soft hands like you promised they always would be
when she hurts, and you cant fix her cuts with gentle lullabies and kisses.
i love her
so much that this distance means nothing
we were closer than distance could ever bring us
my heart sang the beats in her name and our dreams flowed like blood in our veins
that she so carelessly spilt onto tile floors
i love you
why cant you love yourself?

This child

this child lived the story of the nerd
spent days parked on benches watching his team play ball
didnt question why it was never his turn because he knew
he knew why childrens eyes stared
burned holes through his body where his hope leaked out
they saw right through him
didnt pause to question like his parents did because the answer was simple
this child was different
this child was the child that parents said to be nice to
this child wasnt thought of in the future because he wasnt suppose to have a present

AR

stop, listen, think
put meaning to words and see what they mean
women, children, men, dying
dying for profit in a market making billions
dying because the selfish horde and the rest unheard,
dying, screaming, crying
childrens tears joining the river of blood as throats are cut
skin is burned and life removed
dead, like billions before
over 99 billion bodies, piled to the sky,
haunt the dreams of no one because nobody looks
nobody listens
nobody stops and hears the screams of women, children, men
dying

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