When the world gives you a choice.
The easy way,
Or love.
Choose love.
Always choose love.
There's something beautiful in the way a rose blooms through concrete.
There's something beautiful about the light surrounded by so much darkness.
You wouldn't know how to smile if you were happy all the time.
So love,
And lose,
And fall,
And cry.
And love,
And win,
And rise,
And smile.

Life is a knife in a gun fight,
But God at least you're fighting with something.

Love is like flying.
You could fall at any moment.
But the clouds are so beautiful up here.

When you talk to people,
Look them in the eyes.

You don't know how many galaxies lie in those things

Poetry has never been escape.
It has been solitude.

My poems will not stop the world from falling apart.
But for a moment,
No matter how brief,

It is bearable.

When you walk like you have 12 gage shotguns for lungs,
Your very breath is a weapon.

When you walk like you have pistols for hands,
Your very touch is deadly.

We did not ask for such a violent biology.
But we were born in the tide of oppression and forged in discrimination.
We did not ask for this.
This skin is a painting we do not get to wash away.
This story does not end when we wake up.

We live with the audacity to think we belong, knowing.
This was never out fate

I wonder,
If the sunrise ever looks down on our inhabitants,
And holds it's breathe as the beauty of life overwhelms even that of the sky

The back of my throat is covered in the hieroglyphics of all the words I'll never say to you

Bleeding honest hurts a lot more then bleeding wounded...


But god is it beautiful