I spy with my little eye something beginning with R,

rain,
and in one word he gave the game away.

don't wanna get out of my bed
I wanna play hockey with the
cotton wool ***** in my head

but
I know that I have to get up and go
to
work,

unfair?
yes,
'I wouldn't send a dog out in weather like this
perhaps
I'll give work a miss,

My lady is not perfect
She has scars on her skin, she has storm in her heart, she has skeletons in her closet, she has dark rooms in her head.

She can't write a poem with perfect rhymes, sing in perfect tune, dance in perfect music, paint with perfect combination of colors.

But her heart is pure as a clear sea full of honesty and sincerity, her care is sweet as honey and sugar in a coffee.

And her love is like the love of the ocean to the sun, patient, true even though limited and miles sets them apart .

My woman is not perfect nor ideal one, but she's a stone that's rare to find and I love her more than everything.

I cut myself shaving,
it brought back those memories.
Just a tiny twinge of pain,
and my hand begins to shake.
I throw the razor away,
tears begin streaming down my face.
But as much as I falter,
I want to slide the blade down my wrist again
and feel that familiar ache.
I want my emotions to come pouring out,
Because they’ve been hidden away.
I want to be entranced by seeping blood,
as it soothes and brings me peace.
I cut myself shaving,
and I went back to that place.

Have you ever been described as a problem?
Like you are a pesky lil' fly buzzin' around the world?
I have been.
Has your people ever been described as a problem?
Like you are a pesky lil' mosquito biting for fun?
Mine has been.

"The Palestinian Problem," they say.
Like we created it. Like we wanted it.
Like we don't realize that we go everyday
everyday, with the rest of the world
wanting to stomp us like bugs.
We know.
We are that pesky pest problem.

So they call in the pest control,
the we-don't-need-you-control.
and we were poisoned,
and we are dying.
and everyday i watch as,
my culture becomes extinct
and everyday i watch as,
the world walks by giving
zero *****. because
**we are that pesky pest problem.

You messaged me today
I listened to what you had to say
My heart didn't hurt
You didn't try to flirt
You apologized to me
And said you'd like to see...
You'd like to see me and catch up
I said okay
I could talk to you today
Is this healing
Because I have no feeling
I have no feelings left for you

You are my unsent message.
The cursor blinking rhythmically,
With my heartbeat,
Waiting,
For me to hit send.
But I am not ready,
And I’m not sure if I ever will be
So I left it like that.
Unsent. Unseen. Unread.
“I miss you.”