Exactly the way I remember you
Natural sun kissed skin so moist and crisp
Tantalizing eyes sending shivers thru me
Restless hands touching and teasing, please!
Instead of breathing I lose my breath in your
Good, sweet kisses oh how I've missed those
Uniquely silk lips woven by gods
I taste the memory of our last encounter
Now yearning to create something new 'cause
Getting over you is hard to do.

I tend to sacrifice my smile so that you can.

I only stick around so that you will remain happy.

I live for me; yes selfishly
For seeking to find my lost integrity
I live for love, for you and me
For your adoration; your reciprocity

I live to hear the cries of joy my heart's eyes roar as they spy on you
The rifts and melody drifts that we sing harmoniously
The sound of the breeze trying to squeeze between us

And somehow,
In the living of these moments,
I will become what I have chosen to behold

Don't shoot!
Can't you see my white palms
Not the black end of my black hands
Guilty until proven innocent
That's the predicament I was raised in
When I walk onto the subway, privilege holds for dear life the bag her daddy gave her, and yes by privilege I mean white.
Because based on my skin I'm automatically framed as a thief that lives too cheap to afford the Kors bag that she has.
Don't shoot!
I just found out my dog passed and decided I'd run fast and hold her tight before her last gasp.
But since I'm black and I'm running, the pigs start coming after me as if I created a catastrophe since the mask of me is black.
They corrupt the laws, use excessive force and pin me down to the ground when I was just trying to get to my hound.
Don't shoot!
Yes my windows are tinted and my skin is a shade the same but when you pull me over I'm not to blame for the drug ring that has your people suffering.
I sweat in fear for my life as I see red and blue lights wondering if I will live to see tomorrow's sunlight.
Because based on my tints and my rims and my skin I must be some criminal uncaught.
So as privilege approaches my door I must place my white palms on the wheel and plead to retrieve my license from the passengers seat.
Don't shoot!
Because if I was white I wouldn't need to fight for my right to life.
And I wouldn't have to fear the man that society told me would pull my hand if I raised it in a plea for help and welp,
That just isn't the case so based on my race I must remain on thin ice for the rest of my black life, yelling
Don't shoot!