Through the midst
Of teenage immaturity,
Time slowed to a stop
My eyes gazed
Upon your thigh,
The recklessness drained from my psyche
All I could see
Or think, or be
Was self-inflicted pain
I wanted to take you away
Far away
And hold you while you said why,
But I couldn’t.

He caught your eye,
And helped the scabs heal
But you didn’t know
He’d be the one
To make them fresh again
He pulled you away
From friends, from kin
And sewed your hands to his
All it took for you to feel the thread,
Was my soft turned unwelcome voice.

You knew the thread was there,
And you pulled
Until the feeling of the thread
Tickling your skin
Made you stop
He grabbed his needle
And started again
Back and forth,
And back and forth
Until you realized
as your hands bled,
There were scissors beside you
This entire time.

when i go home
I go home to heavy sighs, and "I don't knows"
While the tv hums
and the IKEA Poang chair groans
as he gets up

When i go home
I must prepare for her to knock
And come in, alcohol on her breath
asking questions no one can answer
without becoming vulnerable

When i go home
I must wear clothes two sizes too big
or else he may feel invited
to act as if I am nothing more
than skin and bones
nothing more than something he feels
he is entitled to touch

when i go home
I think about how i would tell you
everything.

sometimes
i see you as a figure of lust
like david harbour,
david thewlis
and john tavares

but others
i see you as a father
unlike my own
kind, understanding
and has basic human decency

i like that.

I fantasize
about marching with my friends
down wellington
forcing the government
to look below,
and think
"maybe they're right."
but instead, they think
"shut it down."


i fantasize
about taking care of the wounded
doing my part
and truly feeling
that there is power in unity
forcing the government
to look below,
and think
"maybe we're wrong."
but instead, they think
"send more troops."


i fantasize
about singing "l'internationale"
with thousands of my comrades
as we fight for justice
arm in arm,
hand in hand
forcing the government
to look below,
and think
"maybe it's us."
but instead, they think
"casualties don't matter unless the goal is reached."

new announcement:
due Monday at 11:59 PM
unit assignment
requires: more energy than I can muster right now.

each morning repeats;
wake up to notifications and expectations
forcing a mindset that is almost impossible to maintain
every minute that passes
is a minute wasted.

timelines approach,
all that is felt is
indescribable exhaustion
is that assignment really due,
or is this all my imagination?

this all feels like
an overlapping, metaphorical Sisyphus;
every day I push one boulder up a hill,
but there are several others deserving of my attention
and they are never ending.

the only thing that provides solace
in a time of utter confusion,
lack of stability, pain
are chuck schuldiner's words.

as he once wrote:
"See past the dark
And use your energy
Learn from these images
Thoughts that we call dreams."

so i grasp wildly through the dark
to find meaning
before the dreams are forgotten when I wake;
it is the only thing keeping me sane.

if he were alive today,
he would speak truth to injustice
in the most poetic way imaginable,
a way I know I would feel too.

kuxaku:
mi ta kom sif da moshisolo
ando felota, felota, felota
naterash wit pensating mi
fo wa Belte mogut.

depelesh mi wanya go;
im wa pelesh sefesowng
wit sownte mali
unte tim fo kopeng mi
fo sasa du amolof foriya.

depelesh kopeng mi
kang sasa feriting fo kowlmang
unte imalowda malimang

amash mi ando felota
unte mi gonya pensa
fo wa Belte wit feriting.