Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Juliana 1d
I’m obsessed with fictional characters.
There’s just something about knowing nothing’s real,
and having the solace that any misfortune
goes away when you close the page,
and any joy you can take with you on your day.

On days like today, I need that.
I need to jump into a book,
to pretend like my world isn’t real,
like those that want to hurt the ones I love aren’t real,
that this hate, and injustice, and fear
is all just a figment of my imagination.

I shouldn’t beg for a fictional dictator to materialize into my world.
I shouldn’t believe that someone who was written to be evil
is better than those living.
But I do.

Because how can people be this evil.
How can there be this much hate?
How can people hurt others,
for what?
What do they gain by putting others down?
What do they gain by making the world a worse place?

…I don’t have an answer,
and I don’t think I want to know one.
All I know is that I’m going to keep fighting.
Today, and always,
until those I love, and those I will never get a chance to meet
have the same rights as everyone else.
Until the world is a place I want to live in.
Until the world is so perfect, it’s almost fictional.
Until I don’t want to leave.
LGBT+ Lives Matter. Black Lives Matter. For those hurting, I am here for you, I am with you. May the world be a better place tomorrow.
August 4d
i don't understand how you can look at this beautifully warm color
and call it *****.
Who are these provocateurs
Ready for anything
Acts to encourage chaos
The anger is real
Caused by big banks
Corporate America
Lawmakers passing
Bill after bills
Criminalising poor people
Traveler Tim

A lot of people are concentrating on Looters and rioters, with no idea who the real provocateurs are...
Her touch brought light into this world.
Her smile chased away the cloud around my heart.
Her lips breathed air into my lungs,
forcing a breath, I didn't know I had been holding.
Like a flower in the spring day sun,
I basted in her light.
pitying those who could only see in black and white.
my love
my brave love
I do not know then,
it was your rainbow blood
and allowed me to see the world.
that it was your color that seeped through the creaks
of their concert cities
and built me a
Away from all those who couldn't see the color of love.
Jenn G Oct 19
Faces, voices, actions
Feeling is fact
Fact is fiction
Truth is myth
Myth is truth
Gray is choice
Choice is opinion
Black is nothing
White is everything
We are lost
Willard Oct 16
An area code, six one two,
is cast onto floodlights
and you rattle off reduction theory
in the place that killed George Floyd.

This is my problem with being born:
how you tell me to live my life.

We all supposedly have gas stations
pumping in our tiny little hearts,
and on each vein is a sketched pig
meant for target practice.
So that once he is robbed for cigarettes
and change, the clerk will speak
every truth in his dying breath.

That's how living honestly works
or whatever.

I've been watching my ceiling fan spin for the past couple of months
and as I've grown to be emaciated and angry,
my words still echo off the blades the same;

the uncomfortable truth I've discovered
is that my trauma won't exist if I don't.

But what happened "didn't happen"
from what your cashier saw
through windows tinted black.

And if that's so,
am I allowed to make friends now?
For a while I wasn't.

Of all things you soon grew tired
and I did too
of the heavy presence using my ribs as a trampoline.

I've held over six clerks tied to a radiator
and yet nothing has passed,
besides your social media accounts.
Your latest post, a power stance
among the flames of a precinct,
one hundred and seventy two people liked.
Maybe they admired how tall someone can stand
for social progression with their knee still planted
in the throat of another.
I don't know what to tag this.
August Oct 4
what does again mean,
aren't we trying to move forward?
Drakeslilbro Oct 4
What’s it like to be black
Whole life pre planned before you come out the sack
We are creative and they hate it so they judge us for that
If selling mid to they kids
Is your plan of attack
You need to smoke a spliff with em
*** it’s bigger than that
This **** is bigger than rap
This **** is bigger than the memes
That you’re sharing on snap
We got the ku klux klans
Hiding under the mask
The Oval Office filled with squares
And they dumb as a mat
Our own president a racist
And it’s stupid in fact
I wanna beat his fathers ***
Just for teaching em that
Look em in the eyes
Just to show em I’m mad
I’m sorry mr Luther
I’m with Malcom on this
Look we tired as ****
They worried bout some buildings
When they killing the kids
I can’t even go outside
Without fearing the pigs
How A simple rollin stop
Turn to you’ll be missed
Celebration of my life
***  your fear of my skin
They won’t even stop there
They’ll do it again
Every knee bowed on our neck
even when we’re right our tongue will confess
just to stay breathing.
Snakes in the grass that we’ll tread and hex that lays seething,
fake bleeding, just as a reason to decay our meaning.
The rage is heating but their passion for us stays freezing.
What’s next? Modern slavery is them open-carrying
weapons that prosper and officers that foster beatings.
Their face red as a lobster sneaking on someone black just to accost her.
Blue is the color of mobsters that fed lead
to someone innocent; she bled dead in her own ******* bed.
We could be doctors, seeking to uplift with our waters but instead,
we’re razed to the ground, wasting away in a plot
as we rot! Yet we wrought nothing in their haze.
Our offenses aren’t grave but we dance with dismay to our graves.
September 23, 2020: It’s sad to know that our lives don’t matter to people. They want to take our hair, language, music, everything else. They take everything. They make us into what we’re not and take from that image too. I wish America cared about black people. It’s so ******* exhausting being a black man in this country. Black women have it worse. Again, where is our reprieve?
Next page