I grew up and still live in the "Blackest state in America".
I live simply two counties shy of the "Blackest county in America".
I did not see color until just recently, and I'll tell you why.
If a white cisgendered person opens up their Tumblr, Tumblr will tell them "goodbye".
If you go to Button Poetry and watch any African American's poem, they will tell you that the white person is dangerous.
Stay away from us.
These words.. they sadden me..
I did not see color until recently.
My best friend is a lesbian, I've dated a black man.
But no, all white people are the same, stay away from as many as you can!
I've asked my friend, Lexie, (her mom is black, her dad is white)
I've asked her what her opinion was on this fight.
Her eyes swelled with tears, she simply can't understand
Why some choose to like or dislike people for whether they are light or dark skinned.
And this is why Pocahontas is my favorite Disney princess.
She teaches everyone can love anyone, race and color are pointless.
I have asked the grinning bobcat why he grins.
It's because I have learned to paint with all the colors of the wind.
Maybe it's your turn to learn to do it, too.
And that's the only way you can find this war to end, I promise you.
I did not see color until just recently.
And now I wish I could go back and learn how to unsee
all the crap that this newfound vision has caused me.

He is a hurricane in my throat. A burning in my chest. A sickness in my stomach.

You are the lozenge that soothes my torn up throat, the aloe vera for my singed heart, the calm my nervous belly.

You are cool waves that sway me back to safety after his harsh waves of words have carried me so far out.

You teach me how to sing again without being afraid of my own voice.

You do this by showing me that you are afraid of your own as well,
but you still sing above everyone else.

And for that, I love you.

I would sing to you all the time
the song talking about sunshine and
the lover's lover leaving them for another
and I sang it playfully. Facetiously. Loudly.
Knowing that you would never do that
to me.
But now, I sing it to myself
alone and quiet.
And all verbs in past tense.
Someone took my sunshine
away.

I still look at your empty seat
In Spanish I
And I want to say everyday after roll call
That you are on your way
You are simply
Running late.

I need you to wake me up
To hold me near
To tell me that you never left
And you're still right here

They say you never have the same love twice
And I find both a relief
and a great sadness
In those words.

But the truth is,
My dear,
You could break my heart
A million times  
In a million little pieces
And I would pick them all up
Just to put them back
Into your hands.

I often wonder
Just how easily do a pianist's fingers conform to their keys?
How do guitar strings feel to the talented in comparison to me?
Why are some more gifted as to how they handle a pencil?
And how can a few fortunate souls control their voice to create perfect sounds?
Why do some possess the wonderful abilities of feeling things better than I can?

he doesn't know how
To hold me above water
Like he used to do

And so the girl
Who only ever needed a friend
And a shoulder to cry on
Was left
And abandoned
Because she pushed them all
Away.

I hear buses leaving, cars zooming; I know the time I have is dwindling
I rush to my car, skipping breakfast; speeding there
I see I'm the last arrival there as my car pulls in; too late

I hear doors closing, the bell's already rang once; I know the time I have is dwindling
I have to hurry, I must; I have to make it on time
I groan and slow my pace as the second bell rings; too late

I hear my friends begin to depart; I know the time I have is dwindling
I run there to meet them, sprinting; They think I'm not coming
I yell after their car as they speed off into the distance; too late

I hear your voice, the only good today; though I know our time is dwindling
I try so hard, to say the right things; to not make you mad
It's too late, I've ******* up once again and ruined your night; too late

I hear a click, a slight shift; I know the time I have is dwindling
I want to tell you, I want to say it all; something to fix my mistakes
I choke on my own tears as I hear the dial tone; too late

It's time for this knife to be uncovered.
Time for fate to start to unfold.
Time for my skin to start to suffer.
Time for the letters to be written in bold.
I've spent too many years hiding this flaw.
Too many mistakes to hide.
Too much evilness I've saw.
Too many dreams have died.
But soon, something else will rise
something else will die
someone else will cry
and hide from the fact that unity is gone
society has won
and I am done.

He lives his poetry
that he writes
alone in the darkness
he seeks out the light
his life is a struggle
an endless fight
he cannot back out
not when he is right
and so the journey continues
on a cold endless night.

My pen doesn't write anymore
It stumbles and trembles in my hand.
If Autumn were here, she'd understand.
It's funny how we never know
exactly how our life will go.
It's funny how a dream can fade
within the break of a day.
I'm not sure where you are now
though I see you in my dreams
and I hear everyone say
"Things are not always what they seem".
So I'm often uncertain
if you like your new home
and when I'm uncertain
I write a poem.
Time can't erase the memories
and time can't bring you home.
That time was a part of me
and now a part that's gone.