Stand Up for Equality

Guess what?
You can be white
and hungry and
underprivileged.

You can be African American, Mexican, Asian, Indian... and on and on and
be hungry and underprivileged.

We are all in this place.
We are all human
and struggling
and wanting so much more.

So let's do it.
Let's break down these walls-no, we won't build them.

Let us break down these walls and embrace our humanity and our inherent love for one another.

Let's just give each other a helping hand for once.
Let's all just stand up
for each other.

Let us just stand up
for love
and kindness.
Let us
stand up.

For a long while I held myself together
Nobody got anything from me

My opinion was mine alone

My ideas were self contained

My words rarely left my lips

My heart most definently was locked away

One day you came along
My first mistake was telling you what I thought of you
My next was what I wanted to do
Worse yet were the three words "I love you"

It took you years to make me truly ***** up though
One day I messed it all up and finnaly delivered my whole heart to you

You gladly took it in two hands
Looked up to me and smiled
That's when you tossed it over my head
You ran and caught it

I stamped my foot and told you no
You threw it back again

I started to have fear

You tore my heart in three
Started juggling with me

I cried and pleaded no
But you wouldent let me go

Eventually you got bored

Tore my heart to confetti
And showered it on me

I feel knees to the floor
I gathered what was once at my core

I looked to God and threw what was left of my heart

What came down was whole and pure
No longer was I broken
No longer must I fear

I can live threw anything
My God is hear

There are things I love
And things I loathe.

Maybe I woke up
On the wrong side of the bed
Or the same side of the bed
I wake up on every morning.

Or maybe I don't do well
On mornings after I've cried.

Maybe I'm just
Naturally a little
Bit meaner than
I look.

Not that I don't have a heart
Of gold and good intentions
But you know what they say
About good intentions.

There are things I love
And things I loathe.

And today fell more on
The second side.

Run out of bad luck,
This is something else

Was never enough,
I could slowly tell.

Our hearts pump bad blood
A cultivating self

I thought I could trust
You with all I felt.

But I feel nothing..
When you're so far away.

No I feel something..
I feel okay
Without you
I'm sorry to say

It's me
Was me
Has been me the whole time.

Disease
What eats
At me
And fuels me with lies

I see
What is Beneath
And what's inside

I bleed
I feed
And need
To save my own life.

Goodbye

i've never met a
poet who wasn't
pretentious
not that they're that way
all the time and not
that it's a bad thing.

but it's expected for
anyone with a mind loud
enough to put words together
in an artistic manner and
assume that others
actually want to read them.

i've never met a
poet who wasn't
pretentious
even if only on paper.

They're lighting the
Candles
In front of the
Pulpit
And the edges of the
Music stands are
Wavering as the
Heat begins to rise.

The greenery
Around the
Cold windowsills
Just sits
There's a scar on my right
Thumb from that one
Time during Silent Night
When I got too close to the flame.

And I could reach out
And touch the table
They're sitting on
The purple and
Pink and
Waxen white.

I could come in the
Dead of night and
Light one
Flimsy match and
Watch all five candles
Drip down.

And then I could
Push the table over and
Watch the rug catch
And spread to the
Walls and watch the whole
Building take like a
Gasoline-soaked
House of cards.

But now somebody's
Passing the offering and
I'm scrambling for my wallet
The nickles and dimes add
Up to new windows but my
View never changes.

My therapist has a
white noise machine
Outside her
office door.

It sounds like a
box fan in the
Summer and a
coffee *** in the
Morning and a
distant vacuum cleaner
All at once.

And you can hear
voices over it but
You can't hear
what they're saying.

I have a
white noise machine
Somewhere in the
back of my head.

It sounds like
radio static
The loose noise
they put in the
Backing tracks of
songs and it never
Shuts off.

And I can hear my
thoughts over it but
I can't hear
what they're saying.

i'm a lot like
one of those books that
you don't like until the
fourth chapter or so.

but i swear that if you
will just stick with me somewhere
along the way you'll
realize i'm not so bad after all.

i make my bed
four times a year
because when the blankets
are on correctly
it's not easily accessible
to wear as a cape.

and i sometimes wish that
i could get out of my
own
******
head
and open up enough
to love someone
else for once.

i sometimes spray more
perfume on my
pajamas than my
dresses it's not
aromatherapy but sometimes
i calm down.

sometimes i manage to
forget
about these
disturbing
thoughts
just
reverberating
through my mind.

and sometimes i just
fall apart
but sometimes i pull
myself together.

today is the sum
of those times.