Engage in feelings you haven't felt in a while, how long has it been since we've both smiled?, it's been forever but we're still beginning, years to come and we will still be sinning, grab my hand to pull me up when I am down, whisper in my ear again that you will always be around, I hear you sleep as I stare into my black ceiling, if only you were up so I could tell you how I am feeling.

All the ingredients are in place
Then a spark and a flame is born,
But flames are weak.
They must be fed daily
The winds can make it stronger,
But be careful the winds can blow it out.
The flame grows stronger

Soon others notice the blaze
They wonder where I got the flame
I try to explain
If I’m lucky I can see their ingredients
Sometimes watch their spark
Help tend their flame
And sometimes they reject your fire
I strive to keep it burning
Strive not to get discouraged when I can’t maintain post gas explosions

But when it does become an inferno
Then the fun begins
You can’t help setting things on fire
It becomes a shield
Flaming armor that protects you from the enemy
Wings of flame that carry you and your dreams
A shield to protect those you love
A raging inferno that challenges the darkness
A beacon of hope to all who search
And all this came from humble beginnings
All of this comes from a simple spark

This country was built on greed.
All the white men had desires;
Gold, God and Glory their creed.
Sin loves to travel in packs
wrath came next to spill blood.
The Great Spirit received many guests.

Having desires is not a sin.
Sin entered when men were sold
to backbreaking work for another’s gain.
***** blood fueled the Southern Kingdom
greed begot sloth which begot fear
slavery became too valuable to lose.

So in the great American tradition
compromise became the easy way out.
Why fight for 3/5 a person;
instead bounce between slave and free
making all envy the southern wealth
a perfect illusion hiding white poor.

Fast forward to the Postbellum south.
Half the wealth has become man
equality will mean Southern prosperity’s death.
The south needs labor to rebuild
sharecropping and convict leasing slavery’s *******
will help keep the ***** down.

When men become numbers society fails.
Why not work them to death?
Just grab another to lay rails.
Once being black is a crime
it’s simple to justify white pride.
Fear will keep those ******* inline.

So do not blame Big Business
for the destruction they routinely cause.
Save your petitions to our congress
they can’t even touch the monster.
We devour all that we see
but that’s our countries original Sin.

On this the day of my birth I reflect on the twenty things I’ve learned. To be fair I learned most of these very young or far too late, but regardless they are lessons learned.

First Family is always family. You don’t chose these people but you do get to choose how you interact with them.

There are people who are more than family. How I met them doesn’t matter. What does is the fact that I would do anything for them for the pure reason that they mean that much to me.

Everyone needs faith, Granted we all don’t believe in the same thing, and that’s ok, but we all need to believe in something.  This life has zero purpose if you don’t have something to believe in.

You can’t chose who you love. I don’t want to go into details with this one but what it comes down to is you are fully responsible for what you do with that love,

Never get in between a relationship. It’s not my place and I don’t like being there.

No one deserves forgiveness. Forgiveness is a gift which must be given freely.

It’s easier to be feared then loved, but love is more satisfying.

People will hate me. Some of it I deserve a lot of it no so much. Nothing I can do about it.

If no one hates you it means you never really stood for anything.

Never pick a fight you don’t intended to finish, but if you do finish it leave it alone, Grudge matches never solve anything.

Grudges are a waste of time and energy. It won’t make you feel better and it won’t make the other person feel worse.

Time is one of the few things we control that we have no real control over, so spend it/ pass it/ live it on the people and things you love.

Someone loves you even if it’s not you.

Money is a means to an end not an end. If money for money’s sake become your goal you will wake up very sad one day.

I should do things that I love. Even if they don’t make me money, that’s the point of my day job. People who can do both are truly blessed, but I don’t want my love to become a necessity.

No one controls my actions but me. I will pay for my sins, but I will also celebrate my victories.

No one on this planet is perfect. But find that person that makes you want to be better then you are.

All magic comes at a price. To gain something, something of value must be lost. To live ignoring the consequences is foolishness.

There are fundamental laws that never change. I am finding out what those are for me and making sure I never forget them.

Lastly I’m just a minor character in a story that has been going on far longer than I’ve been alive, but that doesn’t mean I’m not important to the stories around me. I could be that unwavering friend, the annoying rival, the wise one who hands out good advice, or the villain who makes the hero realize something.

At the end of the day I AM HUMAN. I will make mistakes, fail and fall, but I will pick myself up and keep going. I’m far from perfect and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I have to make him a turkey sandwich,
crusts cut off, mayo on the left piece of bread,
in two triangle halves every single night
before he goes to sleep on the right side of the bed
with two pillows, fluffed twice each, slippers
tucked neatly underneath the bed skirt.
And every night I wonder
what would happen if I forgot the pickle on the side,
like the one time
we ran out of cheese and my car had a flat tire
and the supermarket was so far, but boy
did he give it to me. I’ve never seen someone count
to one-hundred so fast with their finger taps
before the table flipped. Never have I seen
someone clean up glass so slowly, each piece
thrown in the trash individually
just like my pieces
that have been carved away year after year,
loaf after loaf, as my eyes droop backwards
and rest on his haircut that I give
every six weeks on a Wednesday. Sometimes,
I try to kiss his neck when I let the scissors slip,
but he always reminds me that this slot
is “haircut time” and there’s no necessity in kissing
anyway. And I’ve tried to respect
his attic closet compartments with the key
that had gone missing when he was fifteen,
and I’ve tried to wish on misshapen pieces of cereal
in my bowl because I’m that desperate for a miracle.
Do you know?
Do you know how hard it is to lie next to someone
who you know doesn’t dream of you, not because he doesn’t
want to, but because he can’t. He can’t
do so many things and sometimes I’ll lay out a green tie
on a workday instead of blue just to watch him blow up
because at least that’s a feeling. At least that’s not white walls
and another **** turkey sandwich. And I know that’s sinful,
and I also know that I fold my hands wrong when I pray,
but I’ve tried to shape him for years and all I’ve gotten
is a cast with nothing to fill the mold. And I know my suitcase
has been packed for weeks, but. . . Dear God, you know I’ll never leave.
I save my laundry for Saturdays, don’t tell him why I’m crying
myself back to sleep, and check the fridge one last time
for the right deli meat.

You are my personal taste of sorbet, sun-tan lotion, botched
slices of the sun that sit on my tongue like pills
before I swallow. I hate necessity, and crave your entity
in ice cream scoop sizes. I want to pull the batteries out of your back,
**** the juice onto my palette and spit it back into your eyes
so maybe you can feel the sting you left me with when you pushed
my heart off the side of the bed while pulling your pelvis closer to my head.
I hate when we’re cooking and you slide ice cubes down my shirt,
but did you know that’s the only time I ever felt anything
from you that wasn’t warm and bitter and bruised? I think
that sometimes your nightmares even scare me.
I can feel them when you sleep,
your arm flinching beneath my neck, how you curl
your toes against my calves and grind your teeth like you’re trying to fit
your square memories into the oval-shaped hole of my spine.
I get that that’s why you’re a little crooked, but you used me
to straighten yourself like the post a tomato plant wraps its stem around.
You took all the nutrients from my center and fed yourself.
You are the palm tree in my snow globe, but no matter
many times I shake you
the snow still falls on my shoulders.

It’s like you’re a pair of headphones—
coming in two different ears, and I’m bouncing
between one beat and the words that fall from my mouth
like ransom. I swear to god, if you’d just let me fall into you
the wreckage would be small, you’d just have to cradle me
like you do all the other bits that land in your lap
during the so called “suffocation” of your busy schedule.
I get that I’m too big to fit onto a calendar.
I get that sometimes I wear green just because it’s your favorite color.
But picture us together, and not with my clothes in a puddle
on the tile floor while the shower runs. Not with your hand
playing itsy-bitsy spider on my legs as you let your tongue
linger on the dips in my neck. Picture us on the sidewalk
with a lucky penny between our shoes, and how beautiful
our reflections would look even in that tiny surface area. Then,
imagine me in the stands with your over-sized t-shirt
and you could pick me out among the crowd. How about
our hands? Just picture them tangling together, your thick knuckles
knocking against my mother’s old ring. Or even take those circles you draw
on my hipbones and practice them on my palms.
I promise you it’s a lot prettier.
I promise you I know the route, I’ve been around that elliptical
that is your I’m sorry laced with every interpretation that is
YOU JUST DON’T FIT. I know I don’t fit,
and that you think we’re just too misshapen, but do you ever remember,
in that tipsy mind of yours, how slender my body fits into yours
like we’re two half-moons just making a sliver? I just wish you thought of me,
if at all, a little bigger.