A heavy heart and broken smile is all I have to offer
My weary eyes and sensitive ears hide from the truth
The sweet taste of fear, the putrid scent of peace
The soft touch of hostility, the scandalous sound of grace
My body fails, my head hangs, my tears fall
But this feels much better than stinging words of affirmation
Than piercing mercy
Than murderous love that asphyxiates my cold, bruised, torn heart with no sense of satisfaction
A heavy heart and broken smile is all I have to offer
My weary eyes and sensitive ears hide from the truth
But you embrace me and tell me that I have nothing to fear because you will bring me peace of mind
You refuse my hostility and instead return my tormenting, slanderous words with this foreign concept of grace
You help me up, you lift my chin, you wipe my tears
And I begin to understand why people ask for the stinging words
The piercing mercy
The genuine love that revives my cold, bruised, torn heart with no sense of satisfaction
For you are not satisfied in me, but I in you.
Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 12:01 PM UTC
people just keep pushing you
but you can't tell when enough is enough
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 9:30 PM UTC
death whispers to me
I feel his hands wrap around
all I know is gone
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 5:46 PM UTC
The bright sun shone through the blinds, breaking through the barriers of my closed eyelids.
Consciousness crept in, settling into various pockets of awareness.
My heart was beating and my blood was flowing and my lungs were taking in air.
I then understood I was to endure yet another hellish day.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 6:55 PM UTC
The land of the free
and home of the brave
torn to pieces as
the free are murdered
and the brave incarcerated.
It was not
built on fear
but there is still fear
as those sent to protect
instead purge on the innocent.
Where I as a white
have a right to life
while my peers of color
fear for their life
because they're black.
Home of those
who live their lives
as if in Heaven
and those who can't breathe
because it feels like Hell.
Why should I
respect a country
that treats me with
respect, loyalty and peace
because I'm white?
Why do these people,
who with different colored skin
who are just like me
get treated with
disgust, injustice, and violence?
Am I not allowed
to be outraged?
Am I supposed to
assume that this is
the American Dream?
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 6:36 PM UTC
I hope you smile when you see what I've become
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 4:24 PM UTC
Let's play a board game,
or maybe we can cook.
Let's watch a movie,
or maybe read a book.
Let's talk forever,
or maybe sit in silence.
Let's stay safe at home,
or maybe start some riots.
Let's discuss the world,
or maybe nothing at all.
Let's send some texts,
or maybe make a phone call.
Let's rule the world,
or maybe give it a shot.
Let's grow old together,
or maybe we cannot.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 2:57 PM UTC
Every night, for all my life,
I have prayed the same prayer:
"*God is great,
God is good,
let us thank Him
for our food.*"
A prayer so short
and childish,
but powerful
and beautiful.
Several people have asked me why
I still pray that very same prayer:
"*God is great,
God is good,
let us thank Him
for our food.*"
A prayer so short
and childish,
but powerful
and beautiful.
The answer is, I can't give an answer,
I just know that:
"*God is great,
God is good,
let us thank Him
for our food.*"
Amen.
Dig in.
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
I'm quirky, I'm nerdy,
I'm short and I'm curvy,
I always feel a little chilly;
is that just me?
My voice always cracks,
my homework sometimes stacks,
I don't dot every i or cross every t;
is that just me?
I cry when I'm happy,
my clothes are a little shabby,
my bedroom isn't always clean;
is that just me?
My books are a bit battered,
my thoughts are scattered,
I sing off key;
is that just me?
I stutter when I talk,
there's always a limp in my walk,
I laugh so hard I can't breathe;
is that just me?
Sometimes I feel like I'm not enough,
but I have friends who show their love,
my life is like a happy dream;
is that just me?
I like to hold people's hands,
and cuddle in football stands,
sometimes I act a little silly;
is that just me?
We might be somewhat the same,
we may even share the same name,
but no one else, I guarantee,
can be anything just like me.
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC