HIStory So White  
I'm so sick and tired of hearing about HIStory and its butchery.
It's like every time I go online I'm clicking on what reveals another lie.
Another untold fact.
Another white-washed tale.
Another brother or sister's story to which they said, "What the hell, it's just another *****. Who they go'n tell?"
But that's not what they teach us "******" today
Or the rest of the world
And they smile in our face like its all okay.
History so white, man.
HIS story SO white!
But it simply doesn't add up when we all know this nation was built off the Black man's  plight.
By virtue of the blood sweat and tears we poured into this land we took what we were given and molded it into minds of business and healing and growth.
But HIStory wouldn't let you know.
They saw our creativity and ingenuity and either claimed it as their own
Or conveniently failed to mention us for so long
Not giving credit where it's due until you and your whole family's dead and gone
It's 2017 and we still don't know what REALLY went on.
So no, I can't trust this place.
Not with me and my people.
This U.S.of A. That's supposed to be breaking race
Boundaries
But it seems to me we take a step forward and two steps back
Why are our prisons filled to the rim with Blacks?
I wanna trust you, America. I really do.
But you aren't giving me much to work with.
I know there are worse places to be.
Honestly.
But I don't always feel like THIS place is for me.
Like, its not always also MY land of the free.
28 days of hollow black reverence doesn't do me much of a service
Besides a reminder of how much you deserted US and OUR histories.
Cause HIStory SO white.

you were the lacunar bolt the part
of a life spent wishing on stars
if stars had ever granted anything but light

chatoyant the yellow pilot lamp
down the street trembles weakly
wanting to burn out it flickers like a sun
struggling long past its expiration date

I was an absquatulate scholar
of wrinkled bedsheets and the way
the light ineffable shone around us
as though we were the ******* center of it all

a slow-motion salvation is better
than instant gratification behind words
like I believe I can’t accept this
I will give you back

your left behind particulars: your lingerie
your photographs the calligraphy in your letters
the blanket I have slept under for three years
dreaming you might give me back the ring

I willfully saved for you in the abditory
between these walls I was building
for us broken promises refract sanguine light
and shape future homes into abandonment

I don't want to be a coward.
I want to be strong
but it's hard when I don't know what to say
(everything I can think of feels wrong
and I struggle to picture in my mind a real conversation with you,
because I'm scared.)

I blow air into the balloon in my chest
and look across at you
but as my eyes smile and try their best to be honest
I deflate and it seems I can't get through
the thick, grey doubt
clouding my judgement.

I want to tell you that I care
about you and your smile and the way
it paints a crease on your chin
but sometimes I struggle to say anything
that could even so much as doodle an expression
on those familiar features.

Perhaps you are having thoughts quite similar
when you lie down to sleep.
And when you wake early
to go for a run - while your feet
put distance between us - I wonder
if your thoughts pull me closer.
I don't know.

Honestly, these dramatic words don't feel right to me.
They don't suit you
like I want to suit you.
They don't match the pure, honest truth, which is that
I think you're unique.
You're talented and beautiful and you bring me joy.
You're cute and quiet and strong and bold
and I hope that very soon I'll be able to speak some of this to you properly.
You probably know half of it already, and
it makes me twice the coward, that I haven't been able to speak directly to you what has already been said  in every vague hint and stare and hug and simpering compliment that I've passed your way.
I really want to be strong.

She was like a banana.
The best part of her was on the inside.
The amount of insulin I'd need trying to devour her whole.
God knows how much I love the thought of that.
The effect she'd have on me.
Each time I'd see her I'd unravel her piece by piece until all of her shown like never before.
The only problem was I was allergic to bananas.
Although her smell was intoxicating.
One taste of her and my throat would instantly swell.
Though I wouldn't prefer anything artificial.
I wanted the real thing.
When I revealed all of this to her she just laughed.
She laughed her *** off as a matter of fact.
Rocking back and forth.
Her little brown shoes clicking together.
Her yellow skin now a bit red.
Her freckles now in full view.
When I asked why she laughed she said its quite alright.
Most people I've met speak so highly of themselves.
Your the first person to admit you correctly know how to open a banana.

{Set I: Brandon}
If we only have this life, you get me through
Never met many so genuine; only a few
If we've only got this life
Then this adventure oh then I
Shall share it with you for your amenities
Your heart in mine is the ultimate proximity
She's endured my pain for so long
She's a never ending loop of your favorite song

{Set II: Brandon}
Even if our hymns fall flat
The fact that I saved her from splat
I made her believe again
Even then I can be that ultimate friend
She needed to know genuine still exists
Her smile brings back dreams I reminisce
You want an MVP in your relationship
To help patch the ship and sail for companionship

100 prayers and breathing spells
as I lay awake at my breaking point
praying will the shadows go away?
3:00 hits again and my eyes wide open
Another night of tears how i could choke
On the disbelief like a death bed
Pool of sweat as I breathe slowly
The song of angels so distant in her voice
As I bury my thoughts in the pillows again
Sanity bleeds i need sleep
But it never brings me rest
Just a piece of mind in the shards of glass
Slamming my fist into the reflection of myself
Why can't I recognize this man?
Why can't I comprehend his eyes?
The pressure feeds on me
As I feed upon the seeds of its birth
Sometimes I wonder
Did I make a mistake?
Did I cut the cord too short?
And now the prayers I breathe
Breathe heavy
The night is fading to light again
Another sleepless night
And another question without answer
Thank God it's over
Untill the nightmares tomorrow
Another 100 prayers and breathing spells
Another 100 prayers and breathing spells

Silent night, holy night
Silence and wholeness  
Make us honest
Day and night