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Looking back, I have to stiffle a laugh
Ponder,how did it all get so what-it-was?
You see, I had just a cold gun.
Without a single bullet,yet there I stood.
Formidable foes arising against a little boy
Seeking to snarl and growl all night.
It mattered not to me.
Woe unto them for He was watching
not only my back,but front,beside,underneath and over me
Nobly He walked me through the bullies
For some reason, their barred teeth couldn't bite
In their folly,they took on the wrong One
He made me an overcomer,a conqueror
Sit in heavenly places was His invitation.
He did it all just for me.
lying on my mattress
or floor
staring into the
pure
white ceiling.
Thinking, breathing, wanting to scream.
Everything's perfect.
except for the white ceiling, of course
insomnia wonder thoughts breathe dead
My brain is a factory,
producing every toxic part of me.
******* until my hand gets lazy,
fantasizing about Lexi Belle
and being Martin Scorsese.

My blood is a vacuum,
alone in a crowded room;
my white blood cells like to
travel to my *****,
so I can someday infect
designer uterine walls.

Locked and loaded,
my heart exploded.
The tissue and issues
attracted crocodiles
that swam from the mall,
for miles and miles.

Store-bought baby, my body isn't ready,
to be stripped down to the bone,
and sold to teenage radios,
that'll broadcast my American moans.

Caucasian nightmare:
my skin is not fair.
Peel enough off with chemicals,
until I decide there's no more,
and hide the layers in bathroom stalls,
located in the bleach of Baltimore.
And I had to walk away
I was just hoping at least he noticed I didn't run
the title is a thought for after the poem
... My eyes,
To mirror your sighs,
I will give you my smile,
To dance with your smile,
I will give you my hands,
For you to paint the beauty
Of the fertile lands
In the hills of Tuscany.
I will give you my open arms
To surround your shoulders,
When you feel cold during the winters.
I will give you my soft kisses
To dry up your tears
On your pale cheeks
So I can chase your fears.
I will give you my memory,
For you to remember
Our forgotten kisses, if any.
I will tell you some of my secrets,
Even the ones from the Pool,
In case you show interest,
And there you would think I'm a fool.
And of course I will give you
My Ocean Blue,
For you to dive into.
But I will never give you
Anything that can hurt you.
Somehow,
You need to know
That I can only give all this
When you come back from the abyss
To which you've decided to depart,
Leaving me alone to dream of you,
With art.

— The End —