i don't remember the name of your city anymore.
just that it's 4,483 miles away and i sent you my
sweater in the post four... five years ago.

for seven months we were each others' shoulder to lean on, had each others' arms to fall into,
eyes to get lost inside.

i still remember the way you'd hide your face in your hands every time i looked at you for a second too long
through the blurry webcam.

i still hear your giggle and the way you'd ask why i look at you like that, and the way i'd say it's because
i was in love with you.

the way you'd say 'i love you' and i'd say it back.

it's been years since i wrote about you.
the last time i did, i wondered if either of us fell off
the face of the earth, would we ever know?

and tonight, i write this with a smile,
a little bit of pain and regret,
and my mind going what if, what if, what if.

you showed me what love means even across continents,
even though we knew we'd never really
be able to hold each other,
even though we knew it would end.

distance.
it's what brought us together,
what set us apart,
and what finally broke our hearts.

Six-feet between me and
forty-six vignettes of adventurous times.
The slick, shiny gloss used to put a sheen
on moments made for smiling.
Now, ancient beaches and haunting deserts,
where my footprints are planted,
are a dream I fight to remember
after the alarm sounds.
Aches for lost chances of overpriced
airport snacks
and shared glances with strangers
seem to slowly construct "fun's" obituary
on the bored corners of my mind.
But I wait, six-feet away,
to relive it all anyway.
Six-feet between me and some one-hour photos.
Six-feet between me and a graveyard of freedoms.

Black is power
Power is black
400 years of pain and torture
Bodies Confined in ghettos
Government planted drugs
Drug stores on every ghetto corner
owned by white owners
Guns and violence labeled communities
Living in fixed income homes
Kings and Queens with no thrown
Facing poverty, while chasing a fantasy
Crime becomes vital as it is part of reality
Malcolm tried to save them, so they had to take him
Martin was also taken by an assassin
Society labels blacks as superior athletes
but fails to applaud our superior mindsets
Education in our bloodlines
Look at what the Egyptians accomplished
Voices of the numb taken to regret-filled coffins
Rosa Parks sat down so we could stand up for civil justice
What is justice?
Freedom or is it just a word for acceptance
These are words for young Kings and Queens
You are more than a statistic
your skin shade doesn't determine your worth  
your mindset controls the narrative
so don't let society control it
For the racist, I pray you learn to resist
The urge to hurt us, label us, or control us
Because our black minds will never be boxed