i
      DO
not
     WANT
to
     TURN
a
     YEAR
older
     AGAIN
i
     AM
still
      MESSY
and
      I
have
      NO
money.

i always hear your whispers,
they are snakes that slither from my ears
and they travel down the same way
your breath would on my neck.

i remember looking out the window
and i could feel your gaze in the shivers down my spine
and i'd tell the stars about my desires,
i'd tell them about you.

sit down and listen to the sounds of the world.

the gun shots and explosions echo through continents
and you hear the pleas of the hurt and murdered.
the night's music fades to white noise and screams in the ears of men who loved men,
the black woman is trapped in the passenger seat after watching her black lover get shot by a cop for a headlight,
a thousand muslims are hurt and killed in the midst of a holy celebration,
young boys and girls no longer laugh but cry in desperation.

people are killing in the name of faith, and color, and love they deem wrong,
the body count gets higher and higher
as the tears cried and the blood shed
form a well the world is drowning in.

the sweet smell of life turns to death and grieving,
and in times like these, we stand for the threatened, we heal the hurt and broken.

with your voice, tell stories of the murdered and their kind that show they're human too.
with your arms, fight for rights and understanding the oppressed deserve.
with your hands, help and guide the ones who are now afraid.
and with your heart, love radically
until love is enough to put the pieces of this world back together.

it is grief and rage all at once.

and there are never any words for this—
simply a scream,
a howl,
an outrage.

in this I have never felt more helpless:
my apology will never be enough,
but staying quiet will mean silence,
and silence means consent,
and no—
I do not consent to any more of this injustice,
this farce,
this outright lie.

there have been enough stolen lives.

my love,
my black brothers and sisters for which there are no words:
I am so sorry.
you will always have me in solidarity.

I feel as if I can do so little,
but lead the way.

send me your voices, send me your battle cry:
and I will do my best to be your megaphone, your ally,
if need ever be.

and my love,
these children,
good men and women who have been lost to this earth,
who this earth does not deserve:
I am so sorry—
but you deserve far more than my grief.

may you find justice. may you find home.
may you find rest; may you rest in power.

Bit by bit the debris of my being will dilapidate
My arms of cement will be tied and pulled to pieces by ropes
My windows shall be crashed and shattered by the indestructible cranes
The walls that contained the stories I kept will be torn down ceaselessly
The pillars that once made me stand tall will crumble to pieces and dust
My tower will fall apart amongst all the people and placed I've come to love
The ground beneath me will give in as I sink into the hollow Earth to disappear.

And as this may appear as a catastrophe, it most certainly is not.
In fact, it is satisfaction -
Satisfaction for the people
Who ordered for the nuisance I was
To be taken down and demolished for their own reasons.