either you move fast,
or I move on

Movement and shout has been given to the world.
Who wants to spend time in stillness and silence?
Me who listens to the reverberation of these frequencies, and observes their form and colors.
Silence listens most to the unheard.
In it my consciousness forms a likeness of myself.
Mine is like that white guy with a buzz cut, who sees truth for himself, and has a wider than thin musculature (medium).
How similar are "we" really to put every white guy with a buzz cut with a medium build who rejects the conformal truth prevalent in this country and time?
Why should they be the sidhas that my mind shows me?
What is their power?
Their eyes show the imperfection of a tattoo.
That inkish black stare.
Those creases on the forehead.
That perplexed point on the brow.
That hair so short as to wonder its color, introducimg itself in the eye brows, the white skull cap, and even the short spotty beard.
The shadows between lights portrays more gray than black and white.
The gray of prison bars, the gray of streets, the gray of rain clouds.
With all the fancy of a toilet bowl.
With all the luxury of a walk.
More a "Beastie Boy" than an "Eminem".
More a Jew than a Christian.
More a Baha'i than a Muslim.
More a Buddhist than a Hindu.
When will shade and utility become beauty?

She knew she wasn't the
first shy girl conned beneath
a scintillant moon.

Why do boys lie so
- inveigling fabrications
- hoping to impress?

Why interlace fibs,
when, from first sight, she had longed
for his carnal lips?

Now doubts danced - as if
evil spirits were called and
asked to watch, and gloat.

"I can't talk to you
again," she said, "after all
- you’re a stranger."

She doubted he cared
- she doubted everything, like
she had a soiled heart.

It all started with just the three of us
Then you introduced your friends
Until they became my friends

We started hanging out on our old apartment
Until you guys made it a habit;
We party 'til morning came
Which I shared my small bed afterwards

We were like this for almost a year
Then changes happened;
Some of them go
And some stay

We were forced to part ways
Just as I left the apartment
Leaving all the memories behind

I'm glad that i met all of you
even for a short period of time
You guys are the best thing
that ever happened to me

your words ring in my ear,
the sound of your voice lingering,
waiting to cut me open at my most vulnerable.

your words are like silk,
soft and smooth,
but a bold statement.

they surround me,
wrapping and weaving themselves into my skin,
and suffocating me.

I can still hear your voice,
the accent and the commanding tones,
even though you were the gentlest guy I knew.

my ears bleed,
the ringing of your voice,
its driving me mad.

i wish i could control myself.
i wish i didn't get attached.
i wish i had never met you.

He drawls on
Picks the same three
All male, unlike me
The girls sit in silence
Watching as he
Does the problem
And another he does the next
But never me

I sit there
raising my hand because
When I call out
it's wrong
But when they call out
it's cool

Then I'm told
To participate more
I raise my hand most of the time
I'm called on least of the time

Sexism starts young
When boys expect all the attention
and girls know they will be unheard

When our hands' touch
i feel electricity
run through my veins
like vines turned to ash



and then you pull away
and then you pull away
and then you pull away