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Because I am white
I can’t say things right.
Anything I say can and will be used against me
All because I’m white.
I can’t express my feelings
Because anything I say is wrong
Because I’m white.
I don’t have the right
To stand up for myself
As a white American
Because even though we are being attacked
By people of other races simply for being white.
They aren’t racist against us,
We aren’t being oppressed
Because whites are evil.
Every single one of us.
Well, according to you, at least.
But I guess that’s fine,
Because I do have one right
That I can use
Without being judged.
But it’s the loneliest right,
I guess that’s alright,
If it’s the only one I’ve got, then I’ll use it.
The right to remain silent.
It seems like lately even the people who I considered friends are standing up for people who hate white people because A white person did something. Because of course, we're all the same, right? I feel that if I even stand up for myself I get shot down and labeled a racist. Throughout my life, I've had 3 best friends. They've all been Mexican. I have 2 step siblings, and they are half black. Even though we have a huge age difference, I still consider them my siblings. Race isn't even a part of it. But people don't look at these things, they look at my skin color. Because I'm white, even if I support people of other races, there's still the checkered past of American white people that follows me everywhere. I guess if I just don't talk to anyone, I can't say anything wrong right? I feel oppressed, because people throw what other people have done in my face and claim I am the same. And everyone says white people aren't oppressed. Because, how can you be oppressed if people in history with the same skin color have oppressed others?
 May 2015 stéphane noir
Ominous
Being myself and
living this life
is just another version
of nothingness
of emptiness
of a void
where you're lost in
and can't see any future
but a dark path to follow,
hanging on a blind hope
that maybe you'll find yourself
that maybe you'll find someone
that maybe will be able to help you
but haven't you understood it yet?
you're the one who's got
the burden
to save your own
miserable life
inside or outside this void
life will be the same
darkness will rise
and will follow every step of yours
and maybe one day you'll realize
you don't even remember
how old you are
or how many years
you've been trapped inside
your little wicked & distorted mind
haven't you realized it yet?
is it my fault?
I don't think so
but it doesn't matter
a single bit
this void has made me
what I am today
after all, this is where
I've been in
a lifetime
with only a chance to escape
but I failed on life
and I've failed on death as well
is it my fault?
wait and you'll see.
(specially because I'll soon be dead)
No one sees true night
Everyone's ignorant
Towards all except light
Sticks and stones
may break my bones
but words -
lacerate my soul,
ripping it to shreds.
Leaving my being
next to dead.
Love-poems of generations
recited through the sweet nothings
which are truly somethings.
Wedding vows, declarations
and wasted pitches.
Love and romance
encompass the orbit
that is my secret world.
Love swirls through the air
like autumn-leaves.
Colours reflect those of the
dead-flowers gifts.
The world a giggling
giddy, teenage romance.
Like in novels and epic tales.

My love story is a little different.
You stray away,
marginalizing yourself,
from me and all this feeling.
I wont shatter if you touch me,
or slip away -
back to nothing.
This moment is final
They tell us
This is the end
Coming up against a new beginning

But how do we make sense of time
How can time
Be framed in bookends
One hour marked apart from another
One day pulled apart from the next

We try to take things apart
But graduating
Doesn't end our education
Stories live outside of their pages
Ideas
Stretch beyond their words
And People
Live even outside of their bodies
Their ashes swept up by the wind and water and mountains
Their genes alive in their children

Some moments
Some people
Are too big
They continue
To live
Into infinity

I think our ancestors had it right
When we began to wear time on our wrists
Not in a Line, or Square, or Single Dot
But in a Circle
To Infinity*

~JLH
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