i guess my sub-conscious
had a masochistic moment
because it decided to google your name
I don't know who she was
but I hate her.

why, i beg of you,
do you want to expand the hate?
no, i dont agree with racism
anti-Semitism, sexism, anything related
but argueing with the narrow-minded
doesnt get anyone anywhere.
fighting fire with fire,
isnt going to fix anything.
fire simply can not put out fire.
it only causes it to grow.
no one is willing to change their way of thinking
no one is willing to bend.
and it doesnt even matter whose right,
your both trampling eachothers rights
lets all just sit down for a few,
calm down, chill out
you dont have to agree
to live together in harmony

Mommys a glorified ******
With her 50 some year old married boyfriend
Favorite aunt is a stripper
Used to walk in on her shows
Daddy's a drug pusher
Gave me my fist high at 12
Granny's a kleptomaniac
Must be where I get it from
And it don't stop there
The show goes on
Drug addicts galore
To add plenty of drama
Then there's the snitch branch
Well to do Christians
My biological grandfather
Who says 14 is too old for his tastes
Plenty of violence
To keep things perked up
And everyone on their toes
Welcome, my friends, to the freak show.

I'm tired of your *******.
I do not abuse you,
And even tho you don't seem to remember it
I have the bruises to prove that you hit me
I'm tired of you threatening me
By doing stupid **** like calling the cops on me
And driving me to the "youth opportunity center"
If your going to get rid of me then do it.
Because they won't take me
They don't have the room,
They will send me to live with a family member
Like granny or aunt Chris
And I'm ok with that.
So shut the **** up and leave me alone
Put whatever your about to throw at me down
If your that intent on throwing me out
Give me some time to pack
And I will be gone
I'm not looking back.

Isolation
No school
No internet
No friends and limited family
No contact with the outside world.

No one for me to tell.
No one to help me
No one to see
The bruises on me

And knowing this
Mother is not as hesitant
To leave new patterns
Of black and blue
And shades of green.

Where do dreams come from?
Our mind, our environment
Products of wishful thinking
Mourning what we may never have
Ever-wishing for our desires
In the women's heart
The young mans mind
Ever-changing, ever-reaching
New dreams coming
Old ones leaving
Where do the dreams go?

I can't help but imagine
Tracing those perfect lips
With my fingertips
Softly down your sides to your hips
My arms around your waist
I wonder how you taste
my minds in this odd place
Between wanting to make you my own
And knowing I should slow down