The music climbs inside my empty shell and fills me up with fountains of color and swirling geometrical patterns, becoming a vortex ready to touch down as soon as the gentle bristles kiss the rough canvas.
Oh, the canvas!
My life raft in a sea of faceless, indifferent individuals who exclude any person with the sense to push back against their idiocy. Anyone strong enough to demand answers.

When white men spit hatred through spiteful lips,
what will you do? Will you raise your fists?
When a white man kills a black teen without blinking,
will you turn from protests to riots without even thinking.
You want to prove something?
Prove that there is nothing a white man could do to break the black community.
Show that you will never fight fire with fire. Keep MLK alive, let him live in your city.
Beat hatred unconscious with love, and drown it in peaceful protest.
For, Mike Brown's death was only a test.

Crimson drops on the twin box spring,
My loved ones disgraced in the opening of veins.
I am happy to be alive, lucky to be breathing.
Why, then, do I feel unworthy of this second chance?

Twitching hands and fleeting feet.
Her voice like honey she whispers to me.
I can only wonder if she knows how it feels.
Does she know that it stings?
A tainted adaptation and a hearing that rings.
It gets louder and louder as I push her away.
The beast grows stronger day after day.
All alone, I weep for myself.
I forgot who I am and I won't accept help.
I can only tremble in my apologetic daze.
Friends without faces speaking words that don't faze.

One more step and I am in free fall.
Buckling beneath the crushing weight.
The lies leave my lips, and bring us to our knees.
Refined in my heart, the purest of hate.