Things doesn't have to be
Beautiful,
As long as they're
Real.

I'm here again,

It's me.

Again with many words,

Few messages.

A voice so loud,

Yet inaudible;

A resolve so strong,

Yet so spineless.

Again I'm overthrown by my weakness,

Again I turn to my drugs.

I wish that'd be the worse part of it all.

I lay at the couch half-sleeping, half-awake,

I lay my head down, I lay as my body ache,

I lay down and to there I see

A hand pulling mine;

Thrashed to the lobby.

Found me at the bathroom,

Still with breath cut short,

Left to me was rapport I hope so much to abort;

Body left helpless, body failed a last resort.

Now I write, barely sleeping, barely awake,

Life threw with everything at stake;

I can never unfeel the unspeakable things you've done,

I can never remove the handprints you have left upon me;

I can never undo the chaos you have left to run,

I will never forgive how you moved me.

Breath cut short,

Innocence left shorter.

Once. More.

i will end my life
not today
not tomorrow
maybe not even in a year from now
but i will leave this world
by my own hand
for i was brought here
not by choice
i was created
without any consent
signed a contract to keep breathing
the signature being my first breath
so i will leave on my own terms
by my own hand
my choice

s.s

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.