Sitting Seven for more than seven days.

I'll bathe. But no mirrors. It's better this way.

Tick...Tock
Gun...Shot
Run...Now
Don’t...stop
Tick...Tock
Gun...Shot
Dreams
Long ago, there was a little black boy with a dream
A dream to one day be free of all the chaos in society
Long ago, there was a little white boy who held a gun up to his head
All because he became fed up with the injustices that trapped him within his own body
They were eight
Since when did the playground for eight year olds become the life that not even us adults wish to live
Since when did eight year olds cry so many crimson tears that they form a river big enough to swim in
Better yet, drown in
Back then this was unheard of
Back then it was war against color
You know those as white as snow against those as black as dirt
Now it is just pure ignorance
You know black lives, white lives, all lives matter
WELL ***** THAT!
The children’s lives are what matter
You know the future of our very existence on this earth
But it seems no one really notice that the children are suffering from our stupidity
Which leaves only one question
Does anybody really care
Tick...Tock
Gun...Shot
Say goodbye...to the dreams...that have been lost

i wish people still wrote letters,

i wish we still penned down our thoughts,
so that your tear stains could guide me to your heart
and the coffee or wine stains to those sleepless nights

so that the scent of the sheet could tell me
what perfume was your new favourite
and your lazy handwriting showed how tired you were

theres so much more of you on paper,
and theres so much of you i miss.

I want the world in my hands,
But it's too dak outside for conquering,
I want to touch the stars,
But it's too cold outside for flying,
I need to feel the air,
But the wind will mess up my hair,
I need to hear the birds,
But I'm too afraid of getting hurt,
I want the grass under my feet,
But thorns are hiding out of sight,
I want to relax in the ocean,
But creatures are lurking in the night,
I need to feel the suns rays,
But it's too hot outisde today,
I need to go to school,
But the students there are cruel,
I haven't spoken in months,
Because I'm too afraid of getting hurt.

I wake up drenched in sweat.
A nightmare haunts my mind.
I just saw every one of my fears,
Flash right before my eyes.

I watched as I wasn't there to fight for and protect you.
I listened to your screams as I couldn't comfort you.
I wept as I saw myself turning my back on you.
And my heart broke as you moved on without me.

I woke up, with great terror in my heart.
I vowed that these nightmares would never be.
I swore that nothing would ever tear us apart.
And that you'd never have anything to fear from me.

Follows my inhale
Embraces my exhale

Sleeps my thoughts
Restores my mind

Honours my body
Heals my heart

Balances my nature
Shines my light

Welcomes my warmth
Accepts my spirit

Cleanses my essence
Respects my soul

© Jl 2016

There once was a man on border patrol
With a heart not unlike a massive black hole
He wore his uniform with brilliant pride
As he sent immigrants back to the right side
A hero of the nation
Into the night he would ride
Some nights he would find twas not a soul to be found
As he searched the dry, sand covered ground
But on others he’d find, much to his delight
Many to which he was not so polite
Harsh and cruel was he
Always, he was a true knight
One day as the patrolman was on the job
Some animals came to start a large mob
They were angry with the hero, they did not agree
“America” they shouted “should be FREE”
He smiled and with sound mind replied
“Not if it was up to me”
They raged at this, which made him chuckle
Until one of them struck and jaw met brass knuckle
Seeing this act of violence, more law men jumped in
The law was the law, and the law would win
just as it should be
just as it hasn’t been
But the patrolman was put away
And the immigrants got to stay
Because not all stories have happy endings
At the end of the day

And there was a politician
His skin as orange as the California sun
A smile that made children want to run
Such a man whom all loved to hate
With a belly that made you wonder what he ate
He wished to “Make America great again”
All the while supporting Saddam Hussein
He was the true ‘Murican, he could not sin
Unlike those immigrants with their coloured skin
He was a violent soul to manys’ dislike
With a voice that sounded like a motorbike
However he would still bellow
Of how he was just a common fellow  
With a loan of a million dollars from his father
To start his business, though no one would bother
Failure after failure with no success
He now tries to add a nation to his mess