I hate that I'm up thinking about you when I know I hardly cross your mind. Thinking about my lost innocence. Thinking about how everyone's told me that I'm older now and need to move on. And I have, but I can't forget the feeling.
As a child you're supposed to feel loved, wanted, adored, yet I always felt like I was a burden. You may be asking yourself, why? Well, maybe it was because I tried to hold my father's closed fists.

When I was 5 I started to put sharpie or pen on my nails to make them black.
And I even recall on one instance where I put mascara in my hair to give myself black streaks.
I now want black stiletto nails, and I know that many others have them, or even just paint their fingernails black.
And it makes me think, black is such a beautiful colour and yet we put down and make fun of the people of that colour.
They can't change it, and they shouldn't have to feel that they must.
Being another colour than white shouldn't be a day to day burden or task.
It should make you feel beautiful and blessed.
But not everyone sees it that way.
It's a shame really, you see so many superb black men and women that stand out in this day and age and community.
And it has been that way for centuries.
Giving us all music to move to and lose ourselves in, books to read (perhaps more than once), movies to watch and adore, and many other things.
And yet people don't realize, they're just HUMAN.
Not having a choice of what pigmentation their skin is.
Being beaten unmercifully, and some being prosecuted not from their actions but because people have come to terms that all of that colour perform the same cruel acts.
Stereotypes;
It's not fair and I refuse to live in a society that is so mean and brutal.
Be nice to people regardless of their skin, the look or feel of it.
Be helpful to those in need regardless if others wouldn't because they have different views than you.
I'm not saying this little collection of words will change the world.
But I'm letting it be known that I myself will not be spiteful towards others that have not been to me.
Just because their skin may shout out because it is darker than others, it doesn't make them less of a person.
You don't want people to be put in boxes and yet you categories them, making them feel small and wrong.
We have come such a long way, not just for this subject but for others.
But I want my voice to be heard and my opinion to be stated.
And for others to not be so crass and quick to judge.
People are people, and deserve to be treated like it.

When I get sleepy I fight the urge to lay my bones to rest.
I have so much going on and lots of stress.
But then it overcomes me and puts me in what seems like a coma.
But then I wake up to my problems still not being over.

the lady in red
who lived in my head
used to come to me
and it all started at around age 3
she was sweet and nice and very pleasant
but behind that all she was just a peasant
she was there in all of my times of need
she was strong and blunt and always wanted to protect me
but only I could see her and it was just our little secret you see
she told me 'If you tell anyone that you can see me they'll think you're crazy and take you off to a bad place.'
so I never told anyone so I could continue to see her face
around the time I was 8 she left me alone
'You don't need me anymore you're all grown.'
'You're smart and old in the brain, you can take care of yourself now so I can't stay.'
she was on her way and nothing could stop her
I begged and begged but she was an admonisher
so I let her leave and I never saw her again
the lady in red
she was my best friend

I had so much to say.
But when the pen hit the paper.
All the thoughts went away.
My mind had gone blank.
Just sat in emptiness.
Waiting for the thoughts to come piling back in.

A picture may hold a thousand of things
could be of a man and of a woman
with two golden rings.
or of a mother and her newborn son in a room on a hospital wing.
A picture may hold a thousand of things
but it couldn't quite hold
Your smile
and our forgotten feelings.