Honor, I wear a discotheque
Like, a clown's first dance
Integrity, comes for permission, wicked
Opinion, salt and pepper on an egg, is a demon's problem

Little more, than a thank you
Sassafras, is no hap's ecstasy
In the proud and angry due...
We made a frank photograph, your drunk intimacy...

Is a pardoned stare, at faerie tales
Meant upheld, upheaval is a wager
Of a world, with no clash with vice fail's
Proper though, in the name of fate's mere

Mercy, with an extra shirt
Ready for a pant's relent, regret
In an unescapable kiss, of hurt
And possessing quaintness, we are the boding let...

Witness the gasp...
Of a spirit, erudite to a finish
Of levity, long before callous can ask
Is it all right, to wink at liberty's wish?

to have a human stir, letting awake
flood in, putting unasked long blonde
tresses leavings on your shoulder,
resting head upon the empty crevice
where your shoulder and arm dip,
requiring
filling,

to have a child read you to sleep, a partnership, and awake hours later
his hand cusping your chin, and that
sensation makes an old man go
knee weak
even forty five years
later

despite that the woman left you, claiming
a lack of fufillment?

and that child now a forty five year old man,
has excised you from his life, and doesn’t plan or attending a future funeral,

it is still your **best privilege

is to be able to breathe.

this first & foremost activity,

is the very permit missionary

authorizing us to instigate & create

our very own self~definition, thus our

cognition is the product of our ignition!

oxygen to breathe is the stuff of our

dreams

Don't be so quick to judge.
Not until you've walked a mile
(or at least for a while
in the park)
in my soft bedded,
anatomically shaped,
suede mules.

Then you'll appreciate
the air with which
I bear my superiority
with barely a hint
of complaint.

We will burn you.

Your belly is full of power
That is not yours
The collective charge of a millennia of silenced people

Your greed is a starving parasite
In an empty carcass

Today she is rewarded with a diagnosis for her insight
Tomorrow he is fitted with a muzzle for his tenderness

We will burn you.

what a privilege it is
to celebrate with fireworks.

to hear thundering booms fill the air
and not simultaneously be full of fear.

to have the sky painted
with vibrant dazzling colours -
not the grounds stained
with new shades of red.

to hear the calming whistle
and anticipate a euphony -
not a cacophony of
cracks, bangs, screams and cries.

what a privilege it is
to have never heard the latter.

what a privilege it is
to associate explosion
with new beginnings -
not an impending end.

what a privilege it is
to celebrate with fireworks.

I’m 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 everything I need
I’m spoiled and I should be 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺.
“𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦, 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦, 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦”
It’s like a 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘵 or maybe a 𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦.
“𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦, 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦, 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦”
It doesn’t matter if it’s just fog and conjecture.
I don’t deserve to be sad, I don’t.
I’ve never experienced hardship the way
My 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 did, my 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 did,
Or the people I read of online.
There is no cause for me to lash out,
There is no cause for me to run away
From my own 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 in my 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥.
And yet, they tell me I don’t deserve to be 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 either.
“𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥,” they whisper.
Did you know that whispers can be loud?
Did you know that quiet can hurt?

I can’t be 𝘴𝘢𝘥 and I can’t be 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺-

I can’t be 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 and I can’t be 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨-

What is there left for me to be?

I just don’t feel like an equal
“Life’s not meant to be equal”, you say
then what is it?
I don’t feel above people either..
I don’t feel good in my skin either

“What’s in a name?”, you say
I say it’s everything
It puts me in a box without ever giving any opinions
Gives me privilege and takes it away
Burns down the bridge of equality that’s left to stay

What’s in the gender?
Nowadays people mix and match
Men wear makeup and women wear slacks
Men wear their hair down and women move in a buzz
Idk what the fuss is about?

“You think too much” you say
“You’re young and fine and attractive” you say
It’s not that deep that comedian is mad
He’s just trying to pay his rent
His jokes are just sad

But if things stirred the ***
And brought
About a feeling of resentment
In caste and name and female and the lack of
Privilege as they claim
Know that money talks
In all it’s fame

That you don’t need to earn respect
you have it tailor made
That you don’t need equality
Money can tower the gap of wealth and fortune and fame

But I claim:
Life’s not fair when you’re a female brown minority in a hateful society
Where it’s all about the name
Check your privilege, check your privilege as they suppose
I don’t have any I begrudgingly oppose

He triggered me and reminded me of my position
He meant no offence but I’m reminded of my face
That has no place in this society
Just a pretty girl
Wow so light her skin
So pretty her features
Until they know my name.