As a writer each face I see in passing
Each businessman hunched over his computer
Each little girl in a pretty dress
Each hurried parent running fingers though tangled hair
Becomes a character in my head
A story to be created and molded

Green eyes become fields
While blue eyes become oceans
Each feature is a description in a story
That I may one day write

Don’t ever think for a second you are safe
Don’t think that I only use stranger’s faces
Each person I meet is a character on a page
Three dimensional until I find a pen
Your skin was the color of mocha
Hers the color of milk

Her eyes were geysers of blue and green
Yours were the Earth from which flowers grow
We were an 80’s love story
That could never last

My generation is the technology generation
We are connected 100% of the time
My generation is the "selfie" generation
A generation of self love and positivity
My generation believes you can love someone
Even if they're thousands of miles away
My generation is the download generation
Music from every era is at our fingertips

They'll tell you all this is bad
They'll say we're a generation ruled by technology
And we are, but that's not a bad thing

My generation is the one being killed in the street
For the color of their skin
My generation is the one yelling "hands up don't shoot"
And reminding people Black Lives Matter

My generation checks social media
And hears about news before CNN or Fox
My generation uses pictures and videos
To dispute the lies we're being fed
My generation has the power to change the world

They'll say technology is ruining my generation,
It's not.
It's ruining theirs.

I want love
Just as bad as the next person...
But I want a love that can heal--
a love that can fuse together
the shattered and tarnished bits
and make me whole again.

I want a love that electrifies,
amplifies. a love that exemplifies
beauty and truth.
So done being stuffed full of lies,
demonized, anesthetized.
I want feeling, I want meaning.

I need love.

I'm thinking of the pond we watched from above, while the sun was disappearing behind the trees and lighting up the sky from underneath. The mist was rising up from still waters, save for the ripples you made as you tossed pebbles into the mirror below, and I could feel the heat from your body when we were just centimeters from each other.

Why couldn't I have just kissed you?

Life is long
Then suddenly ding ****
Your time is up
You look back at all you've done
As you go up
The memories you've had are long
Some make you laugh
Some make you cry
But then it hits you
You ran out of time
Then you try to pry down but you cant its too late
You wanted to at least make one more memory before it was too late
Then you see all you left behind and you start to worry
But this is your fate
How sad it ended this way
My lesson to you is dont waste your time

Writing poetry, for me, is like being naked.
My words are like clothes and I'll let my readers undress them.