forgotten: in
the bush, looking
for bodies that hang from
trees, where the apples are -
high above the canopy.

so easy, to smile and
laugh without knowing
how my stomache hurts
once, twice, everytime
it moves.

or that my heart beats fast
once, twice, too many
times, for fear
someone from
my past or future
is chasing me
to blaze my thoughts.

here i am, and
there you are:
white and yellow
like my grandmothers' sweater
in April, or our eyes
that reflect our skin.

i pull and cramp
way too often when
i run.

like i am not fast enough.

i am not
fast
enough
maybe because I spend too
much time
in my four by four,
counting one to four.

but what else
can i do?

*

to forget:
is the simplest way
to avoid fear.

path of least-resistance.

like your bullets
through my brothers'
skin, and your
swift exit.

clack, clack,

the door opens
once, twice, too many times.

so what if they
don't come back?

then I will be lost,
people who look like me
will lose,
we will be lost.

but we have lost.

i guess
that's why we are

here,

mourning about
losing and being forgotten.

because our berries cannot
poison your hull.

but maybe i can.
he can't, but
maybe i can
maybe,
Maybe,

even though his
head cracks before
he left his four by four.

But I can.
I have to
leave.

Here I go.