We named our brothers ****** Boy John
We shoveled indifference with our ignorance
Into the grave of civility and brotherhood
The white family – we are the majority in the school of intolerance
Leading to social starvation
A minority of one is not wrong or mad
One is the last line before
an infinite sea of negative
Under God we are all equal and even
I hope we’ve cracked the whip for the last time
One more might sound louder than Judas’s kiss on Jesus’s cheek
Whips of words are seen holstered
On the tips of tongues and the points of pens
If the worth of your values breaks, and dogmatic hate begins to leak
Then stick the gum of pride you’ve been chewing on for years
To protect whatever you have left
Dr. King was an inspired man and leader
He painted the pages of history with red, not black
Sacrificed his blood, while accepting his skin
It was the kind of idea that seemed too extreme
Never forget the words: **“I HAVE A DREAM!”

I never understood “made in God’s image” until I saw her.
Anyone who’s seen her has higher expectations for what heaven looks like.

We’re both sensitive enough to know what love feels like,
and reasonable enough to know that it can be broken.

The first time you use a new toothbrush is nothing like the first time you kiss a girl,
But I still love them both.

Her laugh is a paradox; an outsider would think she either just said the cleverest thing ever or she wishes she could retract it faster than it was said.
Only I know it’s simply because it’s beautiful. It’s easily my favorite language.

I have considered wearing a wiretap so I could go back and listen to all of our conversations again. And I hope that it picked up her heartbeat. She told me, it’s beating exactly like life should sound like.

She offers to iron any wrinkled clothes. I don’t have any. But I have a wrinkled heart.
I thought it was made into origami but it’s just a wadded ball that missed the wastebasket.

The way she dances to hip-hop shows her versatility,
yet you can tell she doesn’t do this every day; but she still dances.

I’m almost too nervous to hug her - knowing it will have to end.
Whenever I let go, I feel like I made a mistake.

Her voice trails off into silence,
like an hourglass that’s trying to hold itself together.

I like that “click-clack” of her boots.
It lets me know I’m next to someone really going places.

She goes to the mini mart with me even when she doesn't want to get anything,
besides more time together.

If you have never seen a baby dream,
you know nothing bout longing;
About missing a divine place to come here.
Such innocence swaddled in such a small body without control.
They communicate with God
more effectively than any prayer I’ve ever heard.
So take a lesson from babies and children
to learn how to really be men
With a racing heart that should be in a marathoner,
he struggles to open his eyes and wake.
Their heavy breathing is the only sign of the errands
they still run in heaven.
They quiver their lips as if to tell you a secret only God knows,
but has been dying to share – he just needed more innocent lips
When their eyes close they revisit that heaven they just left;
seeing more than our eyes could ever tell
In their inexperienced bodies their eternal spirits struggle to move
Even as my arm goes numb
he’s the only thing that I should be holding in that moment
His sweetness makes me want to be a little bit... more
As I think “what will you be one day?”
I realize it doesn’t matter
That today he makes me a little better
The first time he squeezed my hand I knew it was God
who picked us a millennia ago
to live this life as uncle and nephew

I’m not good at being forward
I have this habit of becoming disordered
I let my emotions change the color of my sleeve
In my aspirations I hope to find belief
I walk through jungles and rainforests
Once in a while I see through the canopy
Into the skies of my memories
And request that stars dance to the rhythm of us
I keep them alive to avoid the gathering of dust
My memories, caught in the Pensieve of your eyes
Have ignored all the times I told myself lies
I may not be your ideal Superman
But I’d accept Peter Pan if you’ll go with me to Neverland
I’ve rarely been so captivated by a girl
Sure, Zooey Deschanel is quirky in New Girl
And Emma Watson bewitched me from the start
Anna Kendrick was perfect in Pitch Perfect
Alex Morgan is the luckiest 13 I’ve ever seen
But I choose you! To fill my canteen
You quench my thirst when the loneliness dries me
I was not made to walk in a desert
My heart is an amphibian
Living like a Floridian in the ice-cold tundra we call Rexburg
You still need the sun, no matter how much it snows
I’ll trudge on in the jungle; dormant in the night
I’ll carry on with you in mind, until the time is right
Once I’ve faced death, or even a spider
Then, I think I’ll top the greats; George of the Jungle, Aslan, Mogly, Tarzan, Batman, Peter Pan, Harry Potter, Genghis Kahn, Michael… Jackson or Jordan
They’re all kings and I’ll be in their league
As I shake off the fatigue and find courage in you
To make it through the awkward moment of simply saying
“You’re a real kind of gorgeous”
In that chorus, played on my rhythm of heartbeats
I found my way out of the back streets
From deep in the jungle I’ve come to know as Fear
A jungle that disappears when your presence is near
Sometimes I have to stop walking, stop thinking
I feel like I’m on the verge of something spectacular
Anything normal might ruin that

I have to tell my heart that I am worth living for
I argue with my legs that I am worth supporting
I promise them that one day I'll take them to new places
I tell my hand that I’m worth holding
But sometimes, I tell myself to let it go
Because I really don’t have reasons for any of them
All I have is hope
That they don’t leave me in my own shadow
My shadow only sticks around because Peter Pan stitched it to my feet
I don’t blame it… I would leave me too
That’s why I don’t blame the people who choose to not stick around
They choose another person's life to live in
I like going to movies by myself
I would rather read a book than write my own
I know that I’m weird and I accept that as "good"
So when others tell me what I already know
I pretend that they’re not saying it with negativity
Like it’s been done typically
I know that I stick out
I wear really bright clothes and I’m obsessed with my shoes
I’ve never listen to them, but I can feel the rhythm of  blues
I feel like Chicago blues get her lyrics straight from my life
I’m still trying to convince myself
That missing myself is worth fixing myself
I don’t have an argument that I’m worth all the effort
But once I stop… There’s no one left
I’ve been on my own for a long time
And my tears don't quench my thirst anymore
My arms are sick of only having me to hold
My chest has swallowed my pride
My mind and my body have left me alone
I would leave me too

Leaves are a little bit like girls
When I see a really crunchy looking leaf
I want to march up to it and step on it
Hear that sweet sound of spring’s death
Bringing way to autumn's beauty
With all her vivid colors
The changing trees swaying
In the chilling breeze

Leaves are a little bit like girls
When I see a really pretty girl
I want to march up to her and say something catchy
Something smooth
Something groovy, like,
“Hey darling.”
“Congratulations on your face. It’s beautiful.”
Caught off guard by such forward bravery
She’d be taken aback by my chivalry
Opening the door to opportunity

Although leaves are a little bit like girls
There are distinct differences
And I know you can all be my witnesses
A leaf is waiting to be crushed
Like a back waiting to be popped into place
Girls aren’t so fond of ginger boys
Or even ginger men
To come straight up and lift them on the pedestal of admiration
Girls are shy too; it's not just me
I simply want to say
Something to make her smile
Like, “I want to talk with you a while”

Leaves are a little bit like girls
No matter how hard you try to rake them in
They blow away in something
As light as the wind

I have a purple heart
I used to have so many strings attached
I was the marionette, and you were the master
And slowly, you got your strings around my heart
I never saw you, thread in hand, approach me with such deceit
As you started to pull my new heart strings
I felt the aches as you slammed my heart against the locked door
A cell of bones and blood there to protect from an attack like this
Now trapped from within and unable to escape
The strings keep pulling and the aches never dull

I took it for a long while thinking this was affection
But effective protection would have expelled this spell from hell
Cast out witches! Burn them like they did in Salem
It’s what they deserve for the worth that they earned
I cast you down with stones in hand
Cut my heart strings thinking I would be free
After 16 months, I took a look inside my chest
My heart was gone – replaced by a smooth river stone
I saw the runaways note addressed to me
It said;

"Hey, I liked those strings. I worked so ******* them. It took me the whole 22 years we have been traveling together to create. After all, what do you know of love? You just cut away the ties you had to me. So I’m sorry, I have to go. That woman always cared about us, cared about me. And you cast her into the flames of indifference."

The epistle was signed with a purple heart

So I got my purple heart
From the heart that quit it’s job
I held the letter and began to sob
The tears smudged the ink and the letters ran together
I saw in the river of words a “P.S.”

"PS – I told you about this girl. The one you never talked to because you didn’t have the courage. I told you she was the only one I could care for."

I have a purple heart
And I have no heart at all
A girl took it, without ever knowing