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Bilal Morsi Sep 2017
Stiff coagulant limbs
unknown
to the capabilities
of a terminal pulse with a grim,
unfortunate smile
that screams “I miss you”
or utters “come in”
or whispers “I loved you” while
flailing their arms to hide
the shadows that creep
onto the tip of their spine
to meet its bride
with a purple face
full of triumph without disdain
with delicate limbs
willing to brace
for the impact crashing through
the joints and bones and flesh
floating like confetti
at the sound of a coo
called deceit.
Bilal Morsi May 2017
This twelve year old boy decides
to ****** the syllables and sounds.
Define leisure.
The crowd shutters at
The voice of the voiceless.
Static gazes shoot across the
graffiti living upon the
livingless.

Leisure just means fun.
This twelve year old boy studies
the maroon leaf hinged on a thread
of silk--
of beauty.
Strands of life occupy his mind
with ounces of doubt
and pints of disbelief;
For threads will break
and beauty will fail.

The buses leave in 2 minutes.
Hurry up!
This twelve year old boy waits
for the end of perseverance;
The burning sensation that crawls
along the inner thigh.
Long live the thread…

Find your partner for the nature walk.
This twelve year old boy
observes the confines of the schoolbus
for the remaining human scraps.
His eyes meet with Jason’s
Deep, silky hazel eyes.
He walks behind Jason while
pinching the edge of his hoodie.

Remember to be back in 10 minutes.
This twelve year old boy ventures into
the small crevice of the forest
in search of a place to call home.
Jason grins at the sight of
Squirrels scurrying through the falling
leaves and shifting sunlight.
Jason inquires,
What are you looking for?
I’m looking for leisure.
Jason couldn’t help but let out
this chuckle that causes bushes to
Shudder.

Start making your way back to the bus.
This twelve year old boy shakes
at the quickness of Jason’s turn.
This twelve year old boy stares at
the formulation of sweat on Jason’s forehead.
Jason drops his eyes onto his slightly pursed
lips and propels his head.
This twelve year old boy remembers
the perseverance of a leaf and feels the delicate,
fragile threads wrap around his body.
This twelve year old boy fears
the dangers of this exotic love.
The body of this twelve year old boy trembles as
Jason’s face grows closer and closer.
This twelve year old boy drops his eyelids
to relax every bone in his body.
This twelve year old boy lets go of the
aching apprehension. Jason locks his lips along
the face of this twelve year old boy to
extract the void out of the abyss living within.
Jason wouldn’t stop his extraction until the beating
of his heart matched with his.
Bilal Morsi Apr 2016
Your my #1 bestfriend on Snapchat.
I text you everyday.
I show you my face before it’s washed
and my body before it’s cleaned
and my hair before it’s groomed
I show you my vulnerabilities.
I show you the things I don’t want the world to see.
But, You make those vulnerabilities seem as though
they are plates of armor sitting on my chest.
I text you when I cry.
I text you when I smile.
I text you when I’m angry.
I text you when I am me.
You always enlighten me with your life
You make me strive to grow
Sometimes I wish I was like you
Sometimes I cry when I see the perfection of your story
But
it’s Ok
because you will always be there for me
Right.

I’m not your bestfriend on snapchat.
You show me your life after the blemishes are covered
You show me the happiness and joy of your life.
You text me after you wash your face
And after you clean your body
And after you groom your hair.
But
it’s O.K
because you help me get through my life.
You help me see what I aspire to be in a person.
You’re the star I am reaching for and even though
I may not be the same thing for you,
It’s O.K
Because my 100 percent could be your 15 percent
But that isn’t because we don’t love each other the same way.
We just…. have different priorities.
But that doesn’t matter.
Right?
Debut Poem!

— The End —