Josiah Jack
never uttered a sound
when they dragged him away
from the scene.
when his poor body
was eventually found,
the treatment endured,
had been mean.

With no tongue in his head
they had left him for dead.

With a month
on his back,
he did indeed
contemplate.
Only sin
“he was black”
hence forth
this weary state.

They attacked in the night,
hooded and white.

All in all
he was
lucky
to be
breathing at all,
all because
he was plucky,
all because
he stood tall.

A ***** they said
should lower his head.

Were they hooded
for fear?
Were they hooded
in shame?
Most likely,
once covered,
they could hide
of their name.

If things were so right,
why hide out of sight?

Bravery isn't
a word for the ****,
Cowards,
this word comes to mind.
Bravery comes
when there's only one man,
not one
with ten more stood behind.

I will strike in a pack
with someone watching my back.

Their plan
was to ****,
this man
Josiah Jack.
Perhaps they
get a thrill
when someone
cannot fight back.

They get real loud
when they join with the crowd.

Josiah
knew well
that if he
raised a hand
his kin folk
would feel hell
from this
unruly band.

So he did not fight
but gave in to his plight.

They think
they were hidden
beneath that
white hood,
Josiah's hearing
is sound
and his
memory is good.

So when things are forgot,
he will take of his lot.

That's exactly
what happened,
as they lay
in their bed.
The flames hurled
with fury
the sky
filled with red.

This man barbequed them like fish on a rack
and no one put it down to Josiah Jack.

I don't want rule the world
I just want to sit on top

It’s been months since we last kissed
and I’ve been trying to figure out why love sounds more like an apology
than a confession when it comes from my mouth.

I came to the conclusion it’s because I have been emotionally unavailable
since I learned that no matter how much you love someone
it will not make them miss you.

I find myself surrounded by those who have left more than those who have stayed
so often they start to blur together.

You once said that loving me is like
constantly struggling to come up for air without ever being underwater,
but you didn’t notice I was suffocating under the absence of everyone
who had promised to stay.

Someone once told me “leave before they love you,
or you’ll stay until they don’t anymore.”

You were writing my name in cement and I was carving yours
in trees marked to be cut down, saying
“this is what happens when someone ruins you before you have a chance to ruin them.”

I’ve fallen in love with you more times than I can count,
and I’m not sure if that means I’ve fallen out of love just as many.

I kept showing you the way out because I wanted to see if you would leave
or find a way to lock the door.

I was too busy tearing them off their hinges
to notice you were desperately trying to bolt them shut.

I guess it’s only fitting I’m left asking the windowpanes where you went.

I think of the things I want to say to you like “it’s for the best”
and
“maybe it was never that good anyways”
but when I get the chance to say anything I know
all that will come out is I miss you, let me stay.

I’m trying not to let this bitterness leave a bad taste in my mouth
but you never saw the point of someone else’s lips on yours
unless they made your teeth shake,
and all I can ******* think about is you leaning in first for anyone but me.

The weight of your absence is so heavy
I can’t remember what it feels like to breathe without gasping.

There are a hundred different ways to say I miss you
but I’m stumbling over every single one
and I’ve realized you can only write about someone so much
before the only thing you can write about is the last time you saw them.

They say you’re only as good as the company you keep,
so I guess that’s why I haven’t been doing so well since you left me.