Saints and sinners step up to me. Saint or dinner which one you'll be. Make your plea to get through the gates if you're a sinner your ride comes at 8.

You probably already know my name so I'll it short. To be honest father I feel I'm hell bound, I haven't went to church since a week after buying a suit for it. My bible is a ****** because I never opened it like it's a limited edition print. But I do know three verses. One to keep away the people ringing my doorbell at 10 am in the morning while I'm snoring. One to keep away my family when they start coming at my neck like mosquitoes when trying to talk about the blood shed on the cross. The last is for my sanity to clarify to my body that I'm not the black devil you see. I'm not the black devil society says I am. I'm not a devil or a demon. I'm lost. Father I died a lost boy. I found myself between in the crossroads of good and evil but chose option c. Father this isn't a excuse for failing the conquest of salvation but just a background on my starting point. Father what is the key to heaven. Is through the message or the messenger. Father did I fail you, father is this my first save point. Father will take me as I am. Will you reset me. Or will you erase me.

I can't comprehend death. I couldn't comprehend death even when death date questions had a answer. I couldn't comprehend death even when the signs are flashing like the last numbers on a shot clock expiring. I couldn't comprehend death even when it was in my mailbox. Like I had the option to accept it. Like I had the option to return it. I wish death was like a letter that I could tell the mailman wrong city, wrong address, wrong recipient. Just wrong. I wish death didn't have a spam folder. Collecting names of people I didn't know until it's gets a name marked as important in my email of life. Death feels like a penaltys not called, like how dare you resume life without everyone in the room, how dare you eat food without saying grace. Death feels like a slap from a friend. Never expected, unguarded, not protected, and reality never the same. I wish death died. I wish death was like a Timmy Turner episode, like at the end if the episode everything will go back to normal. Instead death likes to play deception. Likes to replace the old with the new and tell you nothing has changed. Like my McDonald's down the street always had a kiosk. Like gas prices has always been 3 dollars. Like aunt vib was always light skin. I wish i never have to wait for the next backstabber, the next email, the next letter. I wish death was dead.

I've been down for so long being up feels foreign.  I've been down so long I made my way to my ancestors and acquainted with them. I've been down so long I think I need a decompression chamber because my lungs are not used to breathing freely, so used to breathing synthetically. breathe the breathes permitted at the permitted times, but now breathe freely. breathe like my ancestors wanted me too. breathe because i want to. i want to breathe. and now i can.

I have dog senses when it comes to people's feelings. I'm very aware of people possessing pain around me. when I talk to someone resignation in pain I yield to them. because my senses can tell me the direction and the quantity of pain but never why. I never know if this person is the pain receiver or the pain sender, but sometimes pain's weight is so heavy I break to it and let my young pup heart attend to it like a vet. when identifying what pain this person posses I either prepare to fetch a solution or my number for them because maybe they just need to adopt me into their life but if they are a pain sender, I find an exit. I know how our commercials end and I'd rather choose to be Iams dog than another SPCA survivor.

There was a reason I unfriended you in November of 2016, but my heart won't let the rest of my body do what your president does so well like hate, discriminate, let ignorance drive. with the click of this accept I am far from forgiving who you choose to align yourself with. I just do what people of your party does so well like forget. like, forget the humans has rights no matter what shade of skin you are, or where your place of birth is. I'll just forget the all lives matter posts to my black lives matter post. I'll just forget........

My freshman year is a reclamation. a reclamation of how I can't play both patient and doctor. My freshman year was supposed to be the second chance that I thought my dad wanted, my freshman year was where the excuses were not accepted anymore by professors nor by me. All of freshman year I lived with my dad. I tell people, its to save money, it's convenient, it's bonding, while in all honesty living with my dad has been the time I feel the farthest from him, maybe cause we started with a crash start, maybe I just happened just like childhood just like my life. my freshman year was a reclamation, a reclamation that if I'm 5 or 50 miles away from home, my mom has me like gravity. when I come back home it may take some time for her gravitational pull to set in but doesn't take a semester, a school year, a high school, a life, for her to be there, to stay there and to be my foundation, my reclamation.

To the person who stole my bike, you got more than just a pair of wheels or your next thrill. you have a semester at your feet. you have a transportative transformed version of me at your disposal. just like me it's rugged, beat up, and loyal to whomever it has a hand commands it, but not loyal enough where it stays in the owner's possession. to the thief, treat it better than I did, treat it often, cause if you're getting the same ride I got out of it, it will either break down on you or **** you but just like me, it won't die. just sleep. to the thief, I wish you stole my bike and got hit when you biked in the street. to the thief, take care of it better than I did.