Your perception of me pre-existed, you saw black and you felt danger, you saw my skin and with it painted a personality from the prejudice of your mind.

You don’t know me, yet you assume that I am just like every other dark skinned man out there.

So that is why I feel angry when you cram yourself in the corner of elevators, if you could only realize I am the one who is truly backed into a corner, provoked by your ignorance, until I become what you painted me.

With your judging eyes, cautious smiles, and nervous actions you made me this way when in the beginning I was just me. Now after all you have done, and all I have done, I’m just trying to be me again.
I just want to be me.

dear S.

I hate you. I really, really hate you. Every time I see you, I want to break all the bones you have and light your paper flesh on fire. I want to shatter your dreams like you shattered my happiness. I want to take away anything you have ever loved and will ever love, because you took away the only person who ever had my heart. You cracked three ribs ripping him out of my chest, and it seems you bruised my lungs as well. I am left with broken-glass memories, puncture wounds from snapped bones, and scars beneath my skin. So *******. ******* for being the springtime girl he always deserved. ******* for being the lamb he always wanted to protect. ******* and your big blue doe eyes and your fluffy blond hair. ******* for being the innocent little ***** he always deserved. ******* for being my complete opposite. For being a daisy while I'm just a thorn. For not having devious, hazel, almond-shaped eyes and long, wild brown hair and pale, fragile skin. ******* for offering him something I never could.

******* for pretending to be a friend when all you wanted was to steal the only person who ever made me feel.

And I especially hate you for making me into an angry, bitter harpy. Because I was never a violent person. Never this vicious. But you've shown me a jealous, furious side of myself that I never knew existed.

Someday, I hope some pretty girl who is nothing like you rips him out of your chest and breaks everything you try to hang on with. I hope she flaunts him in front of your face and leaves you with destruction and ghosts of things you didn't know you could miss so much. Then, you'll be just like me.

Another broken, beautiful thing, dead at his feet.

Hey darling,
next time you ****
on a lifesaver,
swirl it around in your mouth,
think of me & those times
you said I was sweet.

Too long have I been a victim
A target of your judgement
As you whisper behind your hands
And laugh behind your Bibles

But you know naught of my life
You know nothing
Nothing of my burdens
Or the story that’s built me
So how do you sit and hate what you do not know
Does your ignorance blind you so?

Your audacious judgement to be cast
Upon anyone different from you
The way I dress, speak
The choices I make
They don’t measure up to your devices

Too long and too often have I fallen prey to those like you
For eons have I tried to fit into your Christian circles
But I have lived
I have sinned
I have borne your hate
And I have overcome
I no longer desire to be part of your hypocrisy
No longer long to be part your elite
Yet now you ask for my company
For I have become one of your charities
But I’m sorry you’re out of luck
Cause frankly I no longer give a

Dad's been gone half a decade now
& I still remember
him lying there
in his bed
with me crying
while he was giving up the ghost
& when I heard his last breath,
I was the witness
to his death
& I wonder,
how many I got left.

Millions of daughters, sons, fathers, mothers, lost in this pointless thing us humans call war.
We’re the only species capable to forcefully make itself extinct.
Child after child,
The blood of the innocent has flooded the land they ruthlessly fight for.
Soldier after soldier,
Risking their lives for a cause that led to years of horror they never planned for.
Jealously seeking power, and coveting each other.
When will they realize that strength is for service not status,
That the very first death was between a man and his brother,
That the deeds of the father always affect the son,
And that when two elephants fight...
It’s always the grass that suffers.

Too yu tis may seam wrong
Two a child with dyslexia it's not
Quick to point out to too or two!
Where were or wear or there their
Your grammatical prowese is a wonderful thing, the way you look down on those beneath
Sad to say for you It's to late as the **** party no lomger exists!
They can't all be as perfect as you
And for that I'm as happy as a fool!