Forty eight, the number of so called “friends” that I have lost on Facebook since voicing my opinions.

One of them was my uncle, who thought it better to simply unfriend me instead of following my polite request to stop sharing certain opinions with me.

Red, the color of the innocent blood that Officer WIlson drew.

Three, number of days since the Grand Jury decided that Officer Wilson was justified in his slaying of a college bound, unarmed black teenager.

Youth, the group of people who have become fed up with all the lies told to us, all the injustice perpetrated against us, all those telling us we’re not good enough, we’re not complacent enough, we’re not thankful for what we have.

Eighteen, the age Michael Brown was when he was unjustifiably slain while unarmed. A college bound teen, Mike was taken from this world far before his time. “”He should have been in college. He should have been spending all night in the library studying for exams. He should have been going out with friends and making the most of his time. He should have been getting ready to come home to his family for thanksgiving. Instead, he’s 6 feet underground, because that is where Officer Wilson decided he should be.”

I don’t have a gun, stop shooting - Michael Brown’s last words

Gofundme, website that brewed hate and racism, and assisted Officer Wilson in raising nearly half a million dollars

Hatred, the thing that has allowed Ferguson to happen the way it has.

To the ‘change’ that we have seen in the past 50 years since the Civil Rights Movement. To the ‘change’ that has allowed systems of institutional racism to remove innocent black lives from the streets. To the ‘change’ that has allowed Officer Wilson to have zero punishment for taking an innocent life. To the change that we may one day see that will allow Blacks to live freely and happily, and to allow them to have zero fear in situations where they are innocent. To the change we may one day see that will erase the racism that still haunts this country. To the oncoming revolution, may it be strong, may it last, may it save

-m.j.

I wouldn’t know it when I woke up that morning,

but this would be the perfect day.

Sunny and beautiful, this day would lead to a wonderful surprise,

our first kiss.

I remember it perfectly.

We were getting ready for our camping trip to Michigan, prepping the tent and the rest of our supplies.

We went into your garage to smoke, hiding from your brother.

You looked at me and smiled.

God, that smile of yours.

The smile that I couldn’t resist.

The smile that instantly made me so happy.

I couldn’t help but smile as you pulled me close to you.

You grabbed me waist, pulled me in, and pressed your lips against mine.

The way your lips felt against mine.

The softness of your touch.

The taste of your breath.

The sound of our lips pulling apart.

The smile that you gave me.

The smell of our smoke lingering in the air.

In that moment, everything was perfect.

It was something that I was waiting for, something I knew would happen,

yet it still came as a surprise.

It was the kind of kiss that leaves one wanting more.

I pressed my lips against yours one more time before we went back to the tent.

We packed our supplies before you offered to drive me home.

We said our goodbyes as usual, yet this one was different.

Right before I left, I delicately took your chin in my hand, feeling the softness of your skin.

I carefully led your lips to mine, tasting your breath one more time.

-m.j.

I long for your hands interwoven with mine

i crave the feeling of your touch on my skin

your hands running through my hair and across my cheek

the sensation of your fingers running up and down my body

i want you, only you

for us to be laying side by side

our bodies as close as physically possible

you pulling me in tighter and tighter

i long to be completely and utterly yours

i want to spend lazy Sundays with you in bed

spending the whole day in pajamas, quoting movies from beginning to end

you could have absolutely all of me

i crave you

-m.j.

i miss you

i miss the softness of your lips and the taste of your breath

i miss the night we slept in my bed

i miss the way you pulled me in closer and closer

i miss you pulling my hands into yours

i miss you guiding my hands up and down your body, so that i could feel all of your curves

i miss you teasing me before we actually tried falling asleep

the way you intentionally tried to turn me on, just so that i would pull you close and kiss you

the way you wanted to simply be with me in that moment

i miss the way you taste and the way we made each other feel

i miss holding you in my arms as we slept

you telling me that you felt great sleeping wrapped by me

i miss the way our breath and hearts would synch to the rhythm of the other’s

having you in my arms was one of my favorite feelings in the world

waking up next to you was the only thing i liked more

to know that you were still there in my arms, still there to be mine

waking up to see you still happily sleeping in my arms, before closing my eyes and falling back asleep

then waking again as i felt you turn as you woke up

you flashing your cute, sleepy smile

being able to kiss you good morning

knowing that you were mine and i was yours

these are the things i miss most at 6 in the morning when i can’t sleep and all i can think about is my time with you

-m.j.

This poem is for you.

This poem is for how I feel.

This poem is me on the verge of giving up.

This poem is not like my others.

This poem is sad.

This poem doesn't know what to do anymore.

This poem wants to talk to you.

This poem wants to tell you how much it loves you.

This poem wants to say sorry and make things all better.

This poem is me.


-m.j.

And I don’t think you’ll ever understand,

That every time I took your hand,

I was screaming out,

That I needed help without a doubt.

You did not understand,

When I held your hand,

Something changed inside,

And I forgot all the reasons I ever cried.

I now understand,

Why I long to hold your hand.

When the darkness comes,

And beats its drums,

Oh, how I understand.

That within your hand,

The desire to purge my veins,

Was no longer sustained.


-m.j.