These Black Kids,
Loitering these streets.
Shattering my white kid's dreams.

These Black Kids,
Shouting empty speeches,
Their words falling into dark, grimy ditches.
Ha!

These Black Kids,
Sweating it out,
In chants and animal-like dance;
Let's give them a chance,
To wear themselves out.

And when the time comes,
We'll silence them; this fight.

Litter varsity entrances with empty bullet cases and teargase cans.
Pack them up in mobile shacks.
Let's stack them up in numbered packs.....

In the event that I do pluck up,
Enough courage,
To pull the trigger,
Or down the pills.
Or carry enough softness to slit the right veins in my wrists.

In the event hat shed my own blood,
To sacrifice for all useless moments I spent during my breathing times.

In the event that my heart stops beating:
'cause lets face it -
I'd  rather have that than wait for it to shatter again.
There's only so many times a fragile heart can be pieced together again....

In that event,
May it be that you shed no tears,
And instead wear a badge of a brilliant smile across your face,
Dancing to the memories  of my sonorous laughter.

If you fall to your knees,
Let it be because of your inability to control your joyous self,
And praise Him for the time I had.
Let it be not for your crumbling up in a ball of pity.

So do not pity me.

You are at the risk of wasting your emotions.

Be well and take care of yourself.
Something i failed at completely.

I've come to love the way
the wire wraps itself around my mind
and chokes out the unwarranted memories of our blissful times together.

I welcome the burn
that lands in my throat,
eroding all the words I couldn't bare to swallow before.

I curl at the cold that settles in my belly.
The cold that chases all butterflies away.

I shudder at the realization that my knees
don't get to tremble and shake
at the touch of your lips anymore.

Its done.

You've killed love for me.

Love and all its turmoil.

My friend tells of how she wakes up with a sore body,
From explosive *******
And attempting her limbs at crazy positions.

I say "Me too".

And I'm not entirely lying.

My body is sore,
Not from from *******.
Yet from you using it to mop the floor.
Whenever it is that you've met your woes,
I've met the sole of your shoes.

At one time,
I had to will my body to breathe even with my cracked ribs.
Because when you met your lows,
I connected fully and dangerously with your right hook
And powerful left blows.

How could I forget the time,
When I could feel your fingers tingling with joy.
At the feeling of my pulse slowing down?

Your eyes watered with memories,
Bearing tears that held our amorous moments of sunrise
And elatement at catching the sunset
Within each others aura of love.
The tears came crashing down
And I know deep inside that you were emptying our well of wonderous moments.

When you pulled my hair,
Images of our gasping, clawing, eventful, bed-filled moments disappeared.
Replaced instantaneously by a vision of myself.

Laying dead.

As is by your heart's command.

But I cannot leave.
I cannot run away.
Because when my friends chatter away about neck bites, hair pulling and tears in their lovers eyes,
I say "Me too".

And I'm not entirely lying.

I just never let the true story unfold.

Don't be fooled by:
My smile so bright.
My laughter so loud.
The shine in my eyes you say you like.

Because, my spirit is muted.
And my soul is feeling nothing but cold, alone and forlorn.

Apologies to my heart.
The bleak promises I gave it.
I promised you you'll be loved in return.
That you'll like and cherish this love.
I promised you happiness;
That you'll get mended.
And that, in your fall, you'll be caught.

I'm sorry I lied.
My promise was faulty.

I have enough heart for the both of us.

I have enough happiness, to stretch the corner of your smile all the way to the corner of my smile.

I have enough soul, to slow down your fast paced heartbeat, to take in all the beauty that is life.

I have enough tenderness, to bend the steel gates you have built around your identity; your heart.

Enough time to wait for the seed to grow and blossom into a red-blood rose, with sharp thorns that I'm gutsy enough to pick at and throw them away.

I have enough love for the both of us.

Enough to claim you.

Be with you.

Engulf you.

Please don't let all of this, go to waste.

I know you think my heart is a playground,
Shaped with love and cascading laughter from swings, slides and turnarounds.

With excited and exhilarated screams piercing through the thoughts of torturous reality.

With giggles masking our tiredness of life
and rejection from giving up on it.

I know you feed from my soul.

I know.

But perhaps it stands good to remember that: swings and slides do break;
turnarounds do stop;
Playgrounds become barren with light and love.

Stripped of all their sheer and happiness....

Cara, I'll love you from afar.
I'll love you from here.

Cara, don't you worry,
my love is fierce enough to reach you.
It'll melt away the Igloo house built around your soul.

As the hatred melts away,
I want a fire to be born within you.

Cara, it must burn just as fiercely as mine.
Maybe even more.

But it isn't me that you love,
and that's okay.

My job is just to love you,
you do not need to love me back.

And because of that,
I'll walk away. Further and further away from you.

But rest assured, the fire still burns.
And the love you feel will scath you.

By the time you look up, Cara, I'll be gone.
Ill be gone but the fire will still be lit.