You're everywhere, man.
I just can't get away.
There when I'm sleeping ,
and at the break of every day.
Hanging in my time,
matching every word I say.
You're everywhere, man.
I just can't get away.

You're everywhere, man.
please just go away.
Take your hand of my wallet!
Get You're you out of my way.
Scrounging a living from
my worth each day.
You're everywhere, man.
please just go away.

When I'm shaving you're
hand is holding the razor steady.
While watching TV you give
me a running commentary.
While Looking in the mirror,
you look on bitterly.
Is there something wrong,
am I not worthy?

You're everywhere, man.
I just can't get away.
In my clothes and shoes,
using the same brands as I use.
Sharing my breath and heart beat too,
I'll curse each day I'm with you.
But I just can't get away.
We are I, yes  that's true.
But I don't want any part of you.
You're everywhere, man.
It just won't do.
You're everywhere, man
I don't want any part of you.

let me paint you a picture
in shades of black and white
in shades of those who ****
and those who fight
this is what racism looks like
black men with paper hearts
armed with cardboard swords
white men dipped in ivory steel
white men born armed with skin
it's a black man with hands
raised to the heavens
and seeing hell as his last sight
this is what racism feels like
it's your black breath
being ****** out of your lungs
by white hands of white men
dressed in blue gilded in gold
this is what racism sounds like
it's an 18-year old's last words
it's a mother's cry at a police station
it's a bullet racing through the air
this is what racism is
it is not poetry
it's a black man wearing a red shirt
and getting shot six times
this is no crusade
there is no holy purpose
this is the star-spangled truth
a flag drenched in black blood
this is the truth bared in ink
and no poetry can save it

A glimpse into the mirror
reveals fresh creases crossing
over the corners of my mouth—
lines written in immutable ink;
I try not to linger

crumbling upon a bed
scarcely bearing its title,
strewn with lonely sheets;
I bundle them against my chest
using rougher hands than I had left

Sipping the air slowly
to savor the flavor;
rich with fertility
Leaves bursting into fiery hues
reminiscent of fireworks
trembling in the wind

A death knell
over green sceneries;
splotches of sunlight
seeping seamlessly between
newly naked branches,
easing fully unto checkered golden pools–
nature at its most beautiful,
before its most barren

Come bounce back to me
Can't we please connect again?
It's your turn to serve

My Poems aren't for You
My Poems aren't for Them
My Poems aren't for Someone
but a Something
a Me
not a You

I miss
being in love,
and I'm afraid
it only happens
one time

It depresses me
To see other couples
Or people hooking up
I don't know why
But it has something to do
With you