see the emptiness
in between things and moments
your mind is right there

5
                   a
               e      r
           y             s

since I joined hello
a larva with a torn soul
Clinging to Whatever's left of life

since I started scratching for light
Peeking at the  deeming tunnel
but still hoping

since I started dinning with poets
eating haiku in the morning
drinking sonnet in the afternoon
feeling the aching agony of the broken in the evening
falling in love with the dreamers at night

Since my heart was pounded
wrecked and left with unspeakable pain

Since Born was birthed
a crawling character that was literally dying
but still screaming for hope, love and dream

Since Ismael Ibrahim aka Born
stopped existing
and started living

When voices
Turn into whispers
Echoing under our breaths
Lingering
Though the silence
Those three, sweet words
I’ve been dying to hear.

When the lights go off
The spotlight
Turns to you
Grab the mic
Between my thighs
Sing to me
The ballad
Of ruffled sheets
And warm bodies
The carpet is your stage
I am your audience.

When the curtains go down
So do you
Press me
Against the wall
Your nails
Digging through my skin
Hold on tight
As we shift gears
In this ride
You would never forget.

When the show comes to an end
The sound
From our beating hearts
Faster
And faster
Louder than an applause
But before you go
Sing to me
Once more
Let me taste
The song on your lips
The song I would play
On repeat.

The leaves of a nearby tree branch reach down to lightly brush against my skin
I lie down in the fallen foliage fingertips, and let the bits of fallen trees get tangled into my hair

The stars are too dim to compete with the lights in tonight's city sky
What I wouldn't give to have the shimmering lights dance upon my face and under my eyelids

Memories of innocence become reminiscence,
And I can't help myself
I've failed again

The dirt accumulates underneath my nails as I dig my hole deeper
The ground becomes my home
and the night becomes my family

The outside of inside has me scratching again,
Looking under my bed for lost M ‘n M’s
And terrorists without their mothers.
How silly, how serious,
How insane America has become.
War comes big time and solid.
The rust belt won’t have to worry now.
You be building caskets for millions soon.
Resist. Resist. Resist. Resist. Resist.