i have seen a brown tardis

sitting on the rooftop

now a green one

red and purple lipsticks

walk hand in hand along the boulevard

unaware of what lurks atop the roofs

and in each dwelling lives a cat

called rudimental fish tails

who ask themselves

what did the Berlin orchestra do

during the war

You said we still had the stars
But you took them with you when you left.
Now It's dark
And we're constellations apart
And every night I cry
For the moon.

I only wanted to feel the heat of the lighter against my lips before I blew it out

The way you touch me and stroke my hair,
how you love me the way that you care.

The way you stare deep into my eyes,
how your honest you don't tell me lies.

The way you hold me you pull me in tight,
you push on through the struggle, never give up on the fight.

The way you love me your always so sweet,
you give me your everything in the skip of a beat.

The way you look after me your always so true,
I'll love you forever for all that you do.

Dans les rues de Port-Louis, il fait bon dix-huit heures.
Ou chercher, dans cette ville bercée de sueur
Le fantôme de cet acharnement de vie
Qui noie les sens de lumière, de chaleur et d’envie?
Dans les aboiements rauques de ces cabots rois du soir?
Dans le son des volets qu’on baisse de façon vénielle?
Dans les pas qui s’éclaboussent sur le trottoir
Les maux de cette étrange promesse d’étincelle ?
Dans les rues de Port-Louis, il fait bon nuit d’hiver
Grise comme lasse de ces nuées de couleurs incendiaires
Elle s’éteint le temps d’allumer les étoiles,
Peintres bien plus dures que leur jumelles estivales.
L’écru de leur toile est teinte de la froideur du blanc.
Quels soupirs s’emmêlent aux clous qui habitent ses vents?
Quel chant quand la pluie crucifie ainsi nos flancs?
Est-ce celle de cette ville bohème, de beauté fille de sang?

No one knows how I really feel
Deep,
deep down inside,
If you took,
a look,
inside me,
It's a car wreck you would find!

Yes,
I know,
that on the outside,
There a shiny joyful soul,
But take a look much deeper,
There's a massive, gaping hole
That's been pulled and torn and shredded by
Tiny shards of glass,
And barbed wire and knives,
And poles and
Ragged planks of wood,
I'm all beaten up and torn apart
And
All ****** up inside
You'd see yourself with keener eyes,
If you lifted up the hood!

So,
Next time that you ask me,
'Dawn, how have you been'?
Make sure you look much deeper
Than the shiny outer gleam!

Don't be shocked by what you see inside,
It's been there for some time,
Hiding there,
Just out of view,
'Till now the secrets been mine!

But I wonder how many of you,
Out there can relate?
How many happy faces reading this can feel that ache?

A phrase that people treat
like a joke, and that people
have failed to recognize the
significance of.
Black is beautiful.
Brown is beautiful.
Over breakfast foods I tried to
discuss how saying,
"I prefer white people/
I find white people attractive"
is subtle racism.
It was a difficult dialogue that
left me sick and empty.
The feeling of being more radical
than everyone around you.
Meeting a black girl who wants to be white,
hearing from all your friends,
"I just prefer white people",
I see, I see a dominant ideology that
places whiteness above everything else,
especially blackness. It is also a lie.
It is definitely racist.
It says that despite all other qualities a person may have,
their skin color holds them back in your eyes.
Instead I am told my ideas exist in a "box".
The reality of what I say is intensely real to me.
If you can't see the racism in yourself,
I'm not holding you to a quality where
you can point it out in others.
If you can openly pinpoint attractiveness to skin color
and just try to cop it out as "preference"
I am going to call you racist.
Black is beautiful.
Brown is beautiful.
You are not "naturally" attracted to white people.
In that phrase, you tell me it is unnatural for you
to be attracted to black people, or any person of color.
It is not natural. You have adopted the dominant ideology.
It is a subtle and now inherent racism.
I am tired of feeling sick because I'm the radical,
however it is a feeling I understand I will never escape.
It will follow me my entire life, I hope.
I'm sick of feeling marginalized because I recognize
sexism exists, and racism exists, and subtlety does not
******* hide it from me, I'm sick sick sick sick sick of it.
**** it though, I'd rather be sick my entire life,
and see the racism in me and others
than not see it, and just passively swallow that ideology.
I'll carry that weight in my guts,
not because I'm a martyr, because I ******* hate everyone;
because I love myself just that much.
I don't deserve to be that person anymore.
Black is beautiful.
Brown is *beautiful.