After sixty years,
Easter morns
Still give me a
Resurrection.

The first time you saw her,
she had drifted into your apartment
on the tail end of a gust of winter wind.
She was just tagging along as a friend of a friend.
Her starry eyes and half smile
were what got to you,
and they were enough to keep you around.
You caught a glimpse of her
reckless nightmare
almost immediately.
She was stuck in the middle of a
downward spiral,
and she took you along for the ride.
You couldn’t seem to find a reason for it.
She was just sad.
Her body was made up of
howling heart attacks
and incandescent suicide notes.
She was bad dreams,
a fractured spine,
lips hemorrhaging secrets,
and ******* shoved to the back of a throat.
She was laughter at four in the morning
and daisies in a hurricane
with dark hair and darker eyes,
all wrapped up tight in a skeletal frame.
She was your bulletin board of best kept secrets
that you covered with love notes.
You were always trying
to glue her broken pieces back together,
but her edges sliced your skin to shreds.
She did not want to be saved.

You were a thorned rose; placed onto a rotting grave,
who made even death;
seem beautiful with *grace.

I am a sound of a humming bird's voice, singing peacefully without no distraction
A dark colored maroon for its unique dullness,
A mountain higher than you can ever imagine,
A swan for its belief in it's own beauty,
And a lamp that shines brightly no matter how dim it gets.
I am a sunflower who blooms toward the sun of my color,
An apple tree who bears fruit for the needs,
A lake that goes deep into thoughts and emotions,
A Minecraft game that all people can enjoy,
A cup of water for its purity,
An A for its position in the alphabet and sharpness in mind.
I am an ice-cream that revives people on certain understandable days,
A volleyball that can be pressured up,
And the Divergent book that shows I can always be different.

Yes-
You walked into this
knowing that
you would get burned.

But still you touched
with already blistered,
and charcoaled hands
because
once
is never enough
for children to truly comprehend
the lessons
their mothers taught
them

Don’t play with fire sweetheart
for your heart will turn into
ash
once
her
ambers
go out.

You choked on the heat
of your desires
after they went up in flames,
setting your insides ablaze
and of course
with help always arriving
a second too late-
who could
save you
from the firestorm
that had just
erupted
in the shallows
of
your mind?

So don’t play with fire sweetheart,
because you will get burned.

The smoke will
char your lungs,
leaving
you panicked
for release.

And lust will do that-

It will
set alight
everything it touches
destroying
anything unwanted,
that even dares
to stand in its way.

Arson is a crime.


By: Lulwama Kuto Mulalu

I closed the doors to my heart for good,
I'm not letting anyone in,
I threw the key as far as i could ,
Love would never enter there again.

Until you came along,
So sweet and so kind,
Just when i thought that
tiny key was impossible to find,

That's when you proved me wrong,
You held out your hand,
And in the center of your palm,
was the key to my heart,
You had it all along........