I will spread dirt into every crevice of my broken heart and plant flowers so big and beautiful, that their roots will mend all the shattered pieces back together, and you’ll never be able to see the mess I used to be.

This renaissance mind
has rejected
my being...
I can no longer
accept
the world that
I am seeing,
take shape
of late-
are we fated
to hate?
This race war
it's an
eyesore-
but not a joke
anymore.

She pushed her soft cheeks against mine
Put her chubby little hands in mine
Still as a picture
Knowing what was needed....
Not a word was uttered between us
We sat there and weathered the storm...