My sister never used to shut up
And I would scream until she would stop.
The people on my morning bus
Who refuse to read the paper silently
Often are met with my glare.
I spend most days telling people
That I do not care about their
Mundane lives, as a way to be honest-
I hate people who talk too much.

Yet the other day I found myself
Enamored by his voice,
As he pondered out loud what he
Should have for lunch.
As we sat together I only got
Three words in-
Not that I was counting-
But for the first time, I did
Not mind.

For his voice lit up the
Spark in his eyes,
And his words were not harsh
But a melody that could calm
Even the tightest muscle in my body.
His lips moved like ocean waves, so
Soft, creating a space that felt like our own.
As I sat across from him, I thought
I could listen to this man for the
Rest of my life.

The casket is open
Yet my eyes remain closed
I can feel the cold air
Pressing down upon me
But somewhere in my conscious
I know that it is not truly there.
The feelings-
Will be buried with me
And so far I can only feel calm.
I wonder what the dirt will smell like
Or who I will meet in the ground.
I have no sense of fear,
God will soon lead me home.
Until then I will let my family
Feel my hands that have been folded
Across my chest-
I feel like a child once again.
So worry free
Unafraid of what comes next,
As they lower me down
I feel blackness surround me.

With my brown skin glimmering
No one would have known the way
You hid me from the sun

The feeling inside me
Was not with me at birth
But instead a gift
From the one who loved me
The most

At ten years old
With a kiss to the cheek
That burned like fire;
A hatred seeped into me
And set me ablaze

In the most painful way its
Smoke billowed out of me
With every breathe I took
While scorching my mouth
On its way out

Until the day
My throat callused over
Leaving me able to breathe
Sweet fire like crisp autumn air

Allowing a dragon
To be reborn
From the scorched pain
Left by its creator

My legs were shaking
so uncontrollably
as I inched my way towards the
cold tile floor
on a Friday afternoon

It climbed up my spine
Into my hands
as the water in the cup
Shook and spilled
onto the floor

I look at the new mess before me
then up at the one in the mirror
staring right back
as I realize
as of now
only one can be helped

Because the shakes came
and left just as quick
but the thoughts that clawed
my skull
took root within my mind for weeks
on end

And after they grew comfortable
they invited the guest of honor to vacation
within the gaping hole of emptiness
that existed within my chest

Except when he was there it didn't
feel so empty
only heavy
and even though i asked them to leave
they had grown too comfortable
with my discomfort
to give it all up

The thoughts within my head sloshed around my brain like the alcohol in my stomach.
I was cold and tired and with a dizzy mind the only thing I craved was to be in your arms.

I called out your name, to no avail, on the street right in front of your house. the lights were off
so I called your phone and the dial tone seemed to say sorry for the inconvenience, get some sleep you drunk girl.

So I walked alone and cold back to my small room. i put on the shirt that smelled like you,
climbed into bed and reached my arms out into the void that used to contain your warmth.

I had a dream you called that night, only to wake and find it wasn't a dream. i was mad at myself for thinking of it as such. Mad at myself for not answering, not paying enough attention, for turning my phone on silent.

In the morning the thoughts within my head had exited along with the alcohol, and my mind belonged to me again, not you. The only thing I craved was a good bagel, and to be rid of you.

I'm in the front row at your show
watching you strum along to the song
you said was about me;

my hair sticks to my face
and covers my eyes
but I can still see
that's it's about her

I see before me a fire
that rages on with
no flames
running through valleys
and declaring everything
In its path
its own for the taking

we watch as people grab hands
and begin to pray the flames away
without realization that the third
fourth
fifth
or thirty second time
is not the charm

the fire takes families
dead or alive
without judgement to pass
on the whole communities it devours

we stand and watch it like a bad accident
where it’s impossible to look away
as we wait for the impact that is inevitable

it is fueled on hate, the fire
and it rises from the ground
and swells in the air like waves in a storm
hissing at those,who
despite it all
hold love in their hearts

because these people are the most threatening
the ones who are unaware of the true powers they possess
the power to love, and be loved
the ones who still have a voice
that can be heard over the sound of burning cities

we watch as people grab hands
and speak with love on their tongues
like if they’d stop the fire would eat them alive
and I stand with these people

these people
who never knew something as pure as water could destroy such a deadly flame

just as something pure as love could destroy hate, exposing the truth that
in the battle between love and hate-
LOVE ALWAYS WINS

To my future children,
nothing in life comes easy
you will hear these words all the time.

To my boys,
treat the world with a gentle touch
be kind
do not let others
teach you the ways in which
they think boys ought to be.

To my girls,
i say the same
but in this cruel, cruel world
remember that you breathe fire
for that is the only way
you will make it out alive.

Let my enemies stand before me
baring their fangs like wild dogs
as they circle around
minds racing
finding a weakness

Let them establish a plan
to drench the earth before us
with the stench of scarlet blood
whomever’s it may be
in the end

For I will fight the good fight
even if the last thing i swallow
is the pain that encumbers my every fiber
my last breathe will not be in vain
but one less they will be able to take

For my last giving moments
will be tough earned
and the last thing that will slip from my lips
will be a promise of vengeance
if that is the way the earth mote it be

In the dark I sat perched on his chest
like a house cat that craved attention

Purring soft sounds into the night
as the neighborhood around stirred in silence

I curled up into a ball and tucked my paws
under my chin to rest for the night

yet the domestic cat must still have enemies
that they join the mice in running from

the dogs barked and I felt the hair on my neck
come to a standing position

Hiding places seemed scarce as i darted around
the room desperate for high ground as they neared

my nose alerted me that they were close-
outside the bedroom door I heard them growl with hunger

a door of such no match for the beasts of the night
and with vulnerability i watched them bound towards me

teeth bared, claws ready,  alarm in my chest
i could feel their breathe on my face

and with panic i awoke to find not a cat nor a dog
but a boy who thought he was a man

i was perched on his chest like a lazy house cat
resting in the sun who held not one single worry

As i looked around the room no danger was ever present
but one can only be naive once

this time i would be ready with a twitch of a hand
to claw my way out of danger
with any foe who should come for me

the porcelain feels cold
against my skin
i dont know whether
this is real
or a dream
but i do know that i am on the floor
and that my throat stings
with the painful regret
of lasts nights haunting

this is not who i am
but is my forefathers before me
so therefore
it is the ace that stares back at me in
the mirror
lifting its cold arm
liquid to mouth
regret to sorrow

my father would be proud of
his youngest
undoubtedly his smartest child
following pace by pace
in his deep footsteps
his serpent eyes would
reflect off the glass
that i am bringing to  my mouth

and he would laugh
like he's done a thousand times
because in the morning i wont know who i am
my name will be a lie
and i will regret every decision
i have ever made

he will use this time to escape
like his own fathers before him
and he will place the blame
and pass his pain
onto anyone
especially a child

and he will be scared to stray-
to confront
so he continues to march
in the footsteps
that even precede
him

the porcelain feels cold
against my skin
and i can feel it
and i can feel my throat
and i choose feeling
over the comfort
my forefathers have chosen before me
before ME